Live in The Moment
by Orange-Coyote
Summary: Hermione Granger finds herself attracted to the one and only Draco Malfoy. In the beginning she is in complete denial, but in the end she decides to just live in the moment. Rated T to be safe. Summary sucks, but give it a shot.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hello everyone. This plot attacked my mind last night and I just had to write it. It's a little rough right now, but I'll get around to fixing it later. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I have a feeling it's going to be mulit-chapter.**_

_**Thanks for reading! Let me know if you think I should continue.**_

_**If you're the type who likes music along with a fic, I'm quite partial to "Long Shot" by Kelly Clarkson. The lyrics are actually pretty relevant.**_

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><p>Hermione Granger was well-known for her rationality and her stubborn nature. But on this night, both traits had failed her.<p>

She glanced around at her surroundings. A king-sized canopy bed swathed in dark green linens and silver pillows, an adjoining door leading to a private bathroom, and the platinum blond hair and molten silver eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

'How did she get here?' You may ask. Well, it all had to do with one simple phrase.

"Live in the moment for once, Granger," he had said huskily before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his own in a searing kiss.

And that one kiss had led to an intense snogging session. And that snogging session had led to a quick shag. Which led to a second. And then a third. And then a fourth which occurred in the shower, if Hermione remembers correctly. And honestly, Hermione had never felt so satiated in her life. But she was feeling so guilty and embarrassed and ashamed at the same time.

What if Harry or Ron found out? What if Malfoy bragged about it to the Slytherins? She was Head Girl for goodness' sake! She couldn't have something like this getting out to the entire school! She might lose her position! Where had her rationality been when she so desperately needed it last night?

_Yesterday Afternoon__:_

Hermione was smoothing down her yellow dress and attempting to flatten her stubborn, wild curls. She had no idea why she had agreed to go to the stupid dance in the first place. It's not as if she had a date or anything. But Ginny could be quite persuasive when she really tried, and so now Hermione found herself descending the stairs of her common room and making her way into the arms of her pre-arranged date for the night, Draco Malfoy.

Since Hermione and Draco had both been appointed the Heads for their seventh grade year, they were forced to attend all school functions together "to promote inter-house unity," as Dumbledore's portrait and McGonagall were so fond of saying.

They had tried their best to put their hostility for each other aside during such events, and had so far done a pretty good job of it. The first ball had been the most awkward. Hermione chuckled mirthlessly as she remembered the train wreck that had been Hogwarts' Hallows Eve Ball. She had actually lowered herself into transforming him into a ferret in front of the entire school. Let's just say McGonagall was not pleased. The Christmas ball hadn't been much better, but neither required a visit to the Hospital Wing by the end of the night so it was considered a success.

And now Hermione found herself walking to her doom yet again for the Spring Ball that was to be held the weekend before the students were released for Easter holidays. Although yellow probably wasn't the best choice for such a theme, Hermione refused to wear green and seeing as how she had already worn black and red, she was left with either yellow or blue. Blue reminded her too much of the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament, so yellow was the color she had chosen.

She reached the bottom of the staircase and, as expected, there stood an immaculately dressed Draco Malfoy with an indifferent expression on his features. Over the months Hermione had been stuck with the boy, she had learned to tell the difference between his sneers, smirks, and snarls. This particular look meant he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Hermione couldn't blame him.

"Ready to go, Malfoy?" she inquired as she took the few strides necessary to close the distance between them.

He looked up then, only just now acknowledging her presence. His eyes widened in surprise for a split second, but the look was gone as quickly as it had come. His indifferent façade quickly returned and he replied with a silent nod. He offered her his arm and she reluctantly looped her arm through his. She grabbed her clutch off the table, just in case she may find use for her wand once they reached the Great Hall.

They walked down the corridors in silence, both lost in their own world of thought. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why Dumbledore had chosen Malfoy to be Head Boy to her Head Girl. She had posed the exact question to him multiple times, but each time he had merely replied with a wink and the commonplace twinkle in his light blue eyes behind his trademark half-moon spectacles. What did that even mean?

Draco, on the other hand, couldn't stop himself from taking subtle glances at Hermione. When had he ever had a problem controlling his urges? And with a muggle-born of all people? What was happening to him? It had to be the fact that Granger didn't allow him to take conquests into his bedroom, which meant he had effectively been without a witch to satisfy his urges since their return from winter holidays. She was worse than his mother! And he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that she looked pretty ravishing in that dress. The yellow color did wonders for her complexion as well as bringing out the sparse streaks of blonde that naturally highlighted her chocolate brown locks. The fit of the dress wasn't half bad either, considering how conservative Granger was with the way she dressed. Draco shook the traitorous thoughts from his mind and focused on moving one foot in front of the other.

In no time at all they had reached the Great Hall. The couple shared a look and nodded at each other. Draco pulled the door open and Hermione walked in before him. As Draco stepped in after her and once again offered his arm, intermittent gasps sounded around the hall. Hermione groaned internally. This was the third time she had made an official entrance with Malfoy and some people _still_ made a big deal of it. Draco smirked confidently, pulling Hermione along with him to the front of the hall. As Heads, they had to give a quick speech before opening the ball with the first dance, as was customary.

They reached the podium much more quickly than Hermione would have liked. McGonagall called the attention of the students and then gave the floor to her Head students.

"Good evening everyone," Draco stated majestically. "We hope you'll enjoy the ball tonight."

"We thank you all for attending. Please keep your behavior to a respectable level and we should have no problems. Thank you and be sure to have fun tonight." With her part done, Hermione walked down the stairs of the stage and walked over to the refreshments table where she spotted two of her best friends, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley.

Harry was dressed impeccably in a muggle tuxedo while Ginny dazzled with a beautiful white cocktail dress. They smiled and waved as they noticed Hermione making her way toward them. She approached the couple and greeted them with a hug each before reaching behind them and grabbing herself a drink off the table.

"Hey guys," she greeted cheerfully.

"Hey, Mione," they replied in unison.

"So, how's Malfoy acting tonight?" Harry asked, grasping her hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze. No matter how often Hermione assured him that she could take care of Malfoy herself, Harry always took it upon himself to ask how she was being treated in the confines of the Heads dorm.

"I'm fine, Harry. And so is Malfoy. For now, at least."

"Harry, could you go check on my idiot brother?" Ginny requested of her boyfriend. "I don't want him getting overly drunk again like last time," she added with a frown.

"Sure, Gin," Harry replied. With a quick kiss, he was gone. Once he was out of sight, Ginny turned to Hermione eagerly.

"So?" she asked, looking for all the world as if she had just seen one of her favorite Quidditch players.

"So what?" Hermione asked, bemused.

"How's it _really_ going between you and Malfoy? Did you snog him yet?" she asked eagerly.

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded, her voice aghast. "Why would you even insinuate such a thing?"

"Because he's bloody hot, that's why." Ginny giggled at the look of horror on Hermione's face. "Oh, come off it Mione. I know as well as you do that despite his horrible personality Malfoy is quite a hunk."

Hermione shook her head aggressively. "Never in a million years would I describe Draco bloody Malfoy as attractive."

"Sure Mione," Ginny teased. "If that's what you want to believe."

Hermione scowled at her best female friend and looked around the hall for an escape. She found one in the sighting of Luna Lovegood.

"Well, Gin, as nice as it's been talking to you about how wonderful you think Malfoy is, I'm off to say hello to Luna. Tell Harry I'll save him a dance." And before Ginny could respond, Hermione was off and heading in the direction of a girl clothed in a neon green dress.

"She's in such denial," Ginny muttered under her breath once Hermione was out of earshot. Harry chose that moment to return to Ginny's side.

"What was that, love?"

"Oh, nothing," Ginny replied. "Just admiring the way Hermione's dress flows about her when she walks."

Harry nodded. "She's definitely grown up, hasn't she?"

"Indeed."

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><p>"Hello, Luna," Hermione addressed once she was in hearing range of the girl who had unknowingly saved Hermione from a very interesting epiphany.<p>

Luna turned from her conversation with Neville Longbottom to return Hermione's greeting. "Hello, Hermione," she replied in her usual dreamy tone.

"How are you enjoying the night so far?" Hermione asked politely.

"Neville and I were just discussing the pros and cons of having Nargles around, weren't we Neville?"

The once shy boy confidently stepped to Luna's side and smiled in Hermione's direction. "That we were," he agreed. Hermione had to admit he looked quite dashing in his black dress robes. He even wore a neon green tie to match Luna's odd choice of dress. But regardless of the abnormal dress color, Luna looked absolutely stunning. She always pulled off any outfit she chose to don, something Hermione was internally quite envious of.

"Where's Malfoy?" Neville asked suspiciously.

"Oh, around," Hermione replied with a flippant wave of her hand. She knew she'd have to find him soon for the opening dance, but she was enjoying stalling for as long as possible by talking to her friends.

"Shouldn't you find him?" Luna inquired. "Headmistress McGonagall is giving you a look."

Hermione turned toward the podium centered at the head of the hall and noticed that Luna was indeed correct. The Headmistress was staring at Hermione sternly, silently requesting her presence in the middle of the dance floor along with that of her partner.

Hermione sighed and gave Luna and Neville a quick hug goodbye before making her way to the middle of the makeshift dance floor. She looked around for Malfoy, but he was yet to be seen. She huffed internally; it was just like him to make a big entrance. He was such a drama queen in Hermione's opinion.

"Ahem." The entire hall went quiet as the Headmistress cleared her throat. She had obviously amplified her voice with a _Sonorous_ charm. "Thank you," she said once the students had settled down. "Now that I have your attention, I'd like to announce that our Head students this year, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, will officially open the ball with the customary first dance."

Out of the crowd Draco emerged, looking toward Hermione with a look she couldn't quite place. He strode to stand before her and offered his hand. Hermione took it with a small curtsey and placed her other hand on his shoulder as his other hand found its place on her waist.

Soft waltzing music began to play in the background. Draco tightened his grip and led Hermione gracefully across the floor in a dance they had already performed twice before. They danced together seamlessly, Draco leading confidently and Hermione following effortlessly. Considering the two were always at odds, they danced quite beautifully together. Some people, mostly Lavender Brown and Padma Patil (the gossip queens of Hogwarts), said it was fate, that the two obviously had sexual tension that they chose to deny. But Hermione refused to believe in such rumors.

Before either of the pair was quite expecting it the music ended and the hall applauded as Draco bowed and left the floor, leaving Hermione to stand awkwardly as she watched his disappearing back. The awkwardness didn't last long though since another song began floating through the air and Hermione found herself being asked to dance by Harry. She smiled and they settled into each other's arms comfortably. Swaying, the two best friends conversed about what had just occurred.

"I've never seen Malfoy look so… respectful before," Harry commented thoughtfully as he twirled Hermione out and then back in.

Hermione nodded her agreement. She was still going over the dance in her head. Sure, the bowing and curtseying were part of the custom, but never had Malfoy been so reverent to the tradition. In fact, now that Hermione thought of it, his mind had seemed occupied throughout their entire dance.

"He was awfully quiet the whole time," Hermione remarked.

"Do you think he's planning something?"

"Harry, the war is over. I have no idea what he would possibly need to plan."

"I'm just concerned for your safety, Hermione. You do have to room with him, after all."

"Everything is just fine, Harry. Stop worrying and just enjoy the ball for once."

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><p>What in the bloody hell just happened? Draco paced the bathroom he now occupied as the same thoughts repeated over and over in his mind. Had he actually <em>felt<em> something while he was dancing with Granger? And if so, what could it possibly have been? He was a Malfoy, for Slytherin's sake! Malfoys didn't _feel_ anything. Or so his father had often reiterated. Merlin, what was going on? Granger was a _Mudblood. _He was supposed to despise her! Not _feel_ things about her.

Draco blamed it all on the confined space he had been forced to share with the bookworm. Over the past months since term had begun, he had learned more about the girl than he had ever wanted to know. He knew the type of soap and shampoo she used after seeing it multiple times in their shared bathroom. He knew her favorite sweets. He knew what time she liked to wake up and what time she often went to bed. He knew her studying habits and tidbits about her stupid friends. He knew what she looked like when she woke up in the morning and he knew what color eyes she had. Those dark brown eyes that a person could just drown in… And now he was daydreaming about her qualities!

Draco hit his head against the mirror hanging over the nearest sink, hoping to bash the traitorous thoughts from his mind permanently. He could not feel this way about Granger. He shouldn't even be thinking about her in the first place! She was below him. She was a measly muggle-born and nothing more. He would not allow his mind to get away from him like it had during the waltz he had just completed with her in his arms.

Despite every fiber of his upbringing rallying against it, Draco had thought the girl to be quite pretty when he first saw her at King's Cross at the beginning of the year. It had started off as just a general appreciation of a female body that had grown into its shape, but soon after he had begun to think her to be beautiful. And then he had begun to have dreams about her. Not just the typical hormone-driven dreams of a teenage boy, but dreams that included a future with her. The two of them being married. The two of them having children. The two of them seeing said children off to their first day at Hogwarts. And honestly, those thoughts scared him more than he'd like to admit.

He splashed his face with water, trying in vain to wipe the thoughts from his mind. But it was of no use; Hermione Granger was now an undeviating fixture of his imagination, of his mentality, and of his world.

Draco allowed himself to accept it all. He _liked_ her. Hell, he might even come to _love _her if he continued to let his feelings run rampant like this. But the scariest thing of all was that a part of him, a part much larger than he ever would have liked, wanted to fall in love with her and wanted her to love him too. He wanted to hold her in his arms at night, soothe her fears, and be able to just sit in her company without either of them threatening to hex the other. He wanted to have what his mother and father used to have at the beginning of their marriage. He wanted someone he could spend the rest of his life with.

It was time to settle this. These thoughts had been plaguing him all night long. Longer than that, if he was being honest. He remembered the dance they had shared at the Christmas ball only a few months ago. He had felt a twinge of these feelings then too, but had pushed them aside. But he was going to settle this now. It had to be a passing infatuation, a longing to have what he hadn't yet had. That was the only logical reasoning Draco could come up with. So he would get Granger into his bed tonight and settle the question of these feelings once and for all.

Satisfied with his plan, Draco left the boy's bathroom he had taken solace in and strutted back into the Great Hall, his eyes searching for only one person: Hermione Granger.

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><p>Hermione sat at one of the multiple tables that littered the hall, resting her tired and overworked feet. What was she thinking wearing five inch heels to a dance? Oh, right, it was Ginny's idea. She said it would make Hermione's legs look "miles longer." Hermione had sighed grudgingly but allowed the redhead to purchase the shoes. After six dances, Hermione was starting to regret that decision. Not that she hadn't had fun dancing with Harry, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Draco, but her feet were seriously killing her at the moment.<p>

Wait, did she just say she had had fun dancing with _Malfoy? _And did she just call him _Draco_ in her mind? When did that start happening?

Hermione shook the thought from her mind and instead focused on watching the slowly swaying couples currently occupying the dance floor as a slow song played in the background. She smiled as she saw her two favorite couples. Harry and Ginny and Neville and Luna, share adoring glances with their partner. She was a bit jealous, if she was honest, as she watched Ron and Lavender in a similar embrace a few feet away. Everyone had always thought she and Ron were meant to be together, but it just hadn't worked out that way. They had given it a try after the war was over, but being in a romantic relationship only led to more fights, more drama, and more unwanted tension between the two. So they had mutually agreed to remain friends.

Hermione may not have been the prettiest, or the most outgoing or romantic, but she wanted love just as much as the next girl. She wanted someone she could rely on and love unconditionally who would return the favor. She wanted someone to hold at night and be able to kiss when she felt the urge. She wanted to have someone to come home to and talk about her day with. But she knew it was a long shot. After all, who would ever be interested in her? She was merely a nerdy girl with a passion for defending house elves.

As Hermione was wrapped up in her thoughts, she was unaware of the blonde approaching her from across the room. He walked toward her purposefully, completely ignoring the looks he was receiving from other students. He was determined to dance with her one more time before he decided for certain whether or not he would go through with his plan.

"Granger?" Hermione looked up to see deep gray eyes looking intensely at her. She had to admit that he _was_ looking quite handsome this evening as she noticed the hair and ensemble that accompanied aforementioned orbs of mercury.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Dance with me."

Hermione was taken aback. He hadn't asked her, he had demanded it more than anything. And as much as Hermione hated to inflate his ego even more by complying with his will without a single rebuttal, she felt an odd urge overcome her to just dance with him. She couldn't explain where it came from or what on Earth the inclination was doing there in the first place, but she couldn't resist.

"Sure."

And if Hermione had been surprised when Draco commanded her to dance with him, Draco was twice as surprised when she actually agreed without a fight. Was it possible she was having the same feelings he was? Was it possible that she too was curious as to how two rivals could feel that way for one another?

He stood there for a minute, just looking down at her while she looked up at him. He broke out of his shock momentarily and held out his hand for her to take. She took it and he assisted her in rising from her seat. Amidst loud whispers and surprised murmurs, they made their way back to the dance floor as another slow song began to play.

Holding her in his arms was awkward at first as he was so used to keeping his distance from her as much as possible. To willingly hold her close took a bit of silent encouraging from the part of him that felt those annoying feelings for her. But once he relented, he admitted to himself that it felt quite nice to hold her so close.

Hermione was having similar thoughts as she allowed herself to melt into his chest. It was a bit surreal to be in the arms of none other than Draco Malfoy and actually take contentment in it. And were those butterflies she felt fluttering about in her lower stomach? Where did those come from?

As the song progressed, the duo found themselves deeper and deeper in thought. Before they knew it, the song was over.

They stood awkwardly looking at each other. _Fuck it,_ Draco thought. He pulled Hermione with him as he walked quickly out of the hall and out into the corridor.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Hermione spluttered as she tried to wrench her wrist from his grasp.

"Shut up, Granger." Draco didn't really know where he was going, but he knew he had to be sure they were in a place where they wouldn't be interrupted. There was no way he was going to talk to her in the corridors where anyone else could see. He had a reputation to keep up, and he wouldn't be surprised if Parkinson was following him around just waiting for him to screw up so she could report the news to his father. Lucius Malfoy would definitely _not _be happy to hear word of his son having relations with a muggle-born.

Hermione struggled in vain and eventually went slack in his grip, allowing him to drag her to whatever mystery location he had in mind. She could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins as she considered what he could possibly be thinking. Was he going to kill her? Was he going to turn her in to the remaining Death Eaters and watch as they tortured her? Had Harry been right in being suspicious and paranoid? No, it can't be. Hermione had spent the last six months being in close quarters with Draco Malfoy. And while he was still a prick, he was much less sinister than he had been in previous years.

Draco pulled them into an alcove behind a tapestry on the fifth floor, the same floor the Heads dorm was on. He had originally planned on going straight to his bedroom, but he didn't want to scare her by being so forward. Wait. When did he ever take a girl's feelings into account? Gah, Granger was ruining him!

Hermione pulled her wrist out of Malfoy's strong grasp while he was distracted by his thoughts. She was displeased to see the beginnings of a bruise underneath where his fingers had previously laid. "What in Merlin's name are you doing, Malfoy? What is going on here?"

"Do you always have to be so irritating?" he replied as he rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"Irritating?" Hermione retorted incredulously. "_You_ are the one who asked me to dance and then pulled me out of the Great Hall and into our current location. And when I try to ask what in blazes you're doing with me, which I believe I have the right to know considering it's my body you're dragging around after you, you tell me to shut up. If anyone is being irritating, it would be _you._"

Draco sighed loudly. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with you," Hermione started. But she quickly ceased her rant as she looked up into Malfoy's eyes. They were showing his emotions for once, and he seemed to be … confused? Scared? What did he possibly have to be scared about? "Malfoy?" she asked tentatively. "Are you alright?"

The vulnerability that had been visible disappeared in a millisecond. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Hermione countered. "You can deny it all you'd like, but I saw that look in your eyes a second ago."

He groaned in exasperation. The witch was too observant for her own good. But, Draco assumed, being in life-or-death situations with Scarhead all the time probably required such a trait. Only Merlin knew how often the Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die had been saved by Granger's cunning alone.

"Fine, then I'm not alright. Are you happy now?"

"What's wrong?"

"Are you seriously going to ask me that?"

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm _Draco Malfoy_. I'm a Death Eater. My father hates your kind. My fanatical aunt tortured you in my home. I've insulted you and your little friends since the first day we met." Draco seethed. "Need I go on?"

"Yes, you're Draco Malfoy. Yes, your aunt tortured me and your father hates my kind. Yes, you've enjoyed taunting the majority of the school since we began all those years ago. But you did not choose to be a Death Eater. You did not choose to be raised with blood prejudices. You didn't murder Dumbledore."

Draco turned from her, torn between feeling vulnerable and angry. Vulnerable because Hermione Granger of all people had seen through his walls, the defenses he had taken years to build and perfect. Angry because she made it all sound so simple, but it wasn't. No one would ever be able to comprehend what he had gone through during Voldemort's reign.

"That all sounds very nice," he replied sardonically, "But what makes you think I care about your opinion of me? And how does any of that make you want to know what's wrong with my fucked up life?"

"Malfoy, look. I know the other Slytherins abandoned you due to how your family name was ruined after the war. You barely have Blaise as it is, so I can only assume you don't ever talk about how you're feeling. I … I guess I thought that you could use someone to talk to." Hermione didn't know why she was showing Malfoy so much compassion, but she went with it. "Besides, I'm a Gryffindor. It's part of my job to care about others."

Draco chuckled. "I suppose I should have seen this coming."

Hermione marveled in how quickly he went from brooding to laughing. She'd never seen or heard of Malfoy laughing genuinely before. It was a rather nice sound, she had to admit.

"Look, Granger. I appreciate the concern and all, but it's just not my style to share my feelings," he said lightly. "Don't take it personally, that's just how it is."

She's glad to notice his voice is light, rather than the snarky tone she's gotten used to over the years. Perhaps he's not as evil as everyone says. Perhaps she had been right when she doubted Harry all those years ago.

"You can talk to me, Draco. I swear I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

He turns to face her at the sound of his name falling from her lips. "Are you feeling alright, Granger?"

"Yes," she replied slowly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

And in that moment he lets himself go. He gives in to the strange desire he has to taste the lips that had just spoken his name.

In two quick strides, he's standing directly in front of her and staring into her eyes. He leans down, slowly, and stops mere millimeters before their lips connect. He waits for her to slap him, push him away, anything, but nothing happens so he closes the remaining distance and joins his lips with hers.

It's heavenly.

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><p><em><strong>AN: I swear this thing just wrote itself. It was not at all what I was expecting. I stopped it there because if I hadn't I'm pretty sure it would have ended up being around 9,000 words or something insane like that.**_

_**Hope it was enjoyable. Don't forget to review!**_

_**Also, I noticed I switched a bit between past and present tense. I'm kind of leaning toward present tense, but seeing as it's a flashback that doesn't really makes sense… what do you guys think?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hello again. So, a few things. One, I'm without a laptop so updates will be more sporadic than I would like for a while but I will continue to update as often as possible. Two, I literally have no plot written for this story. I think I'll end up writing their relationship through to the end of seventh year after I'm finished describing the ball that started it all. Three, and this question is EXTREMELY important: Would you guys prefer me to write a smut scene or just leave it to your imaginations? Since Hermione mentioned it in the beginning of the story, I was curious as to your thoughts.  
><strong>_

_**Other than that: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! :D Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D**_

_**Hopefully this chapter is good enough to hold you over until the next update despite its shortcomings. Oh, and I've decided to just stick with mostly past tense since no one minds either way. Sadly this chapter isn't as long as the last one nor as intense.**_

_**As much as I love Luna, I know absolutely nothing about the characteristics of Nargles, hence my making random stuff up.**_

_**Warning: this chapter has the words 'mouth' and 'tongue' a lot in the beginning.**_

_**Don't forget to review and tell me whether or not you'd be interested in a smut scene! Enjoy.**_

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><p>My mind whirred as Malfoy kissed me. There was a sensation in the pit of my stomach that I had never felt before and I couldn't name what it was. Before I could even truly comprehend the situation, my body was responding to Malfoy's talented and obviously experienced lips.<p>

The last person I had kissed was my then best friend Ronald Weasley during the Battle of Hogwarts. I had been hiding my feelings for him years prior and all the stress and worry from the war somehow caused me to disobey my normal rationality and just kiss him. To see what it felt like, just in case we didn't get out alive. Even then I hadn't felt anything like this. The kiss with Ron had been quick, a spur of the moment thing. After Voldemort had been defeated we both agreed that we were better off as friends. We bickered enough as it was and besides that neither of us felt a spark during that fateful kiss. But this kiss with Malfoy now…

Suddenly I felt his tongue running against my bottom lip. I gasped (_this was definitely different compared to the kiss with Ron_) and Malfoy took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. It was smooth and reminded me of velvet. He tasted of mint. A part of my mind told me to resist, to push him away, but a larger part of me wanted to keep going. I wanted to experience what I had heard Lavender and Parvati discuss so many times. I wanted to be completely swept away by my emotions, just once. And like Draco had said earlier, I needed to live in the moment. The things he was doing with his skilled tongue felt so _good_, so _right_.

Soon his tongue was caressing mine, trying to coax it out of its stillness. Slowly I relented, allowing my tongue out of the confines of my mouth and letting it slip into his. I explored the wet cavern that was his mouth cautiously. Rather than urging me forward, Malfoy remained still allowing me to go at my own pace. As I touched the roof of his mouth I felt a moan run through my body and send chills down my spine. I was so wrapped up in the kiss that I had no idea whose moan it was, but at the moment I didn't really care either way. I was completely enveloped in the sensations that filled my body. We broke apart after a few minutes, both of us panting in an effort to regain our normal breathing rates.

"Well," I said as I caught my breath, "that was…"

"Amazing? Perfect? The best kiss of your life?"

"Actually Malfoy, I was going to say unexpected."

"Still going to call me by my last name then? Even after the best snog of your life?"

"You shouldn't think so highly of yourself. An ego the size of yours is quite unhealthy. Possibly deadly even."

Malfoy ran a hand through his slightly disheveled platinum blond locks and smirked. "Says the so-called brightest witch of her age."

"That may be what others refer to me as, but it's not as if I'm the one who came up with the moniker."

"Sure, sure." He smoothed down his charcoal grey dress robes and extended an arm in my direction. "Ready to go?"

I had completely forgotten about the dance we were supposed to be attending. I smoothed down my dress, silently thanking Merlin that Ginny had taught me that charm so that my hair would remain tamed throughout the night. After a brief hesitation I nodded and hooked my arm with the one Malfoy had offered. "Let's go."

To my surprise, Malfoy said nothing about the kiss on our way out of the common room or while we walked down the corridors and to the Great Hall. I supposed he was lost in his own thoughts and kept silent.

The Great Hall was filled with students by the time we arrived. I took a moment to look at the decorations the Prefects had worked so hard on. The walls were covered in streamers of pastel colors. Each table had a tablecloth of similar coloring along with a floral design. There was an open space in the center of the room that served as a makeshift dance floor. It made a nice scene put together with the soft music being played by the band currently onstage. It wasn't exactly what I would have chosen, but it was nice nonetheless.

"These decorations are atrocious," Malfoy commented from beside me. "It looks like a bunch of Nargles threw up in here."

I quirked an eyebrow at the latter comment. "A Nargle? Really?"

"What? Lonney Lovegood has a tendency of residing in one's mind," he defended.

"When do you talk to Luna?" I asked curiously. I'd never have expected Malfoy to put up with Luna.

"I was forced to be her partner in Astronomy this year. It's not as if had any choice," he grumbled.

I laughed. I could just imagine Luna relating each constellation to one or another of her many creatures she was so fond of. "Why Nargles though?"

"Supposedly around Easter holidays they become infatuated with daisies and hold a ceremony in honor of the flowers during which they vomit random colors." I glanced at him skeptically. That sounded a bit far-fetched, even for Luna. "Or something like that at least," he added when I continued to show my doubt.

"Suure." I looked around again and noticed Ginny Weasley's signature bright red hair. "See you in a bit, Malfoy." I left his side and quickly walked toward my friends.

Ginny looked up from her conversation with my other best friend, the one and only Harry Potter, and saw me walking toward them. She interrupted Harry mid-sentence and pointed in my direction. Harry's expression quickly changed from annoyance to affection. I smiled at the duo and quickened my steps. I was by Ginny's side in seconds.

"Mione, you look gorgeous!"

Ginny and I hugged. "You too, Gin," I replied as I took in the ensemble she wore. Her dress was dark blue and it fit her figure perfectly. On her feet was a pair of silver high heels. Her fiery red hair was half-up and half-down in elegant waves. Harry stood beside her looking quite dashing in his black tuxedo jacket and corresponding pants. His tie was dark blue and matched the hue of Ginny's dress perfectly.

"You look good too, Harry."

Harry stepped forward and took his turn to wrap me up in a tight hug. "You look beautiful, Hermione," he murmured as he placed a brotherly kiss atop my head.

We stepped apart, a blush coloring my cheeks. No matter how often I was told I was pretty, I still couldn't quite wrap my head around it. I was so used to being the buck-toothed, bushy-haired, know-it-all bookworm. Following my moment of embarrassment the three of us sat down at a nearby table and chatted. Ginny filled me in on what I had missed in our old dorm since we talked last. Harry and Ginny discussed the upcoming Quidditch match. I glanced around during their talk seeing as Quidditch didn't really hold my interest the way it did for them. I wasn't surprised that hadn't seen Ron. After Voldemort's defeat he had gone through a string of women, if the bimbos could be called women, before settling on Lavender again. I had no ill will toward either of them although _Lav-Lav_'s voice still annoyed me to no end. She had matured a bit after the war was over, thankfully, and no longer made snide remarks about me. We got along civilly enough.

Ginny, Harry, and I were discussing what to do over the holidays when someone approached our table. The look on Harry's face wasn't very pleasant and it was enough to tell me our intruder was someone he didn't like. Which meant it was one of three people: Malfoy, Ron along with Lavender, or Rita Skeeter. Honestly, I was kind of hoping for Skeeter. Unfortunately, it wasn't her.

"Potter. Weaselette." I would recognize that drawl anywhere. I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "It's a pleasure to see you, truly." I didn't stop myself from rolling my eyes that time. "As lovely as it is to see you, I believe the Head Girl and I have some business to attend to."

Before I could protest I was being dragged across the room and toward the exit. The last I saw of my best friends was Ginny attempting to soothe a fuming Harry.

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><p><em><strong>AN: an extremely short chapter compared to the last one, I know. I've been facing writer's block lately so hopefully you'll forgive me.**_

_**In the next chapter Hermione finally confronts Draco about the kiss they shared earlier.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Hello again! I apologize for the inhumane amount of time between updates. Thank you for sticking with me and this fic.**_

_**This originally was supposed to be some good old Hermione/Draco bickering. But, the characters took the story into their own hands and something completely different happened. Hope you enjoy! If you do, don't forget to review! [I rhymed. xD]**_

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><p>As soon as we were alone, I rounded on Malfoy. Who did he think he was, just pulling me away from Harry and Ginny like that? He didn't have any right to do anything of the sort. And for all I knew, we were still enemies.<p>

"And what was that?" I asked, certain my voice belied my obvious frustration with the blonde standing so casually before me.

"What was what?" he replied nonchalantly. He had the nerve to play dumb about it! He knew exactly what I was talking about! Nasty little ferret…

"You just waltzed right over and unceremoniously pulled me away from my two best friends!"

"So?" I was tempted to slap that obvious smirk right off his flawless face.

Ugh. He was becoming infuriating! Acting as if he didn't know exactly what he was doing… other than Ron, Malfoy was the only person capable of easily pushing my buttons and bringing out my temper. Before third year, I had never considered myself to be a violent person. But after that slap… I felt the urge more often than I'd like to admit.

"Other than being extremely rude, don't you think that your behavior was a bit suspicious? I mean, honestly, when have we ever given the vaguest implication that we actually attend to Heads business unless McGonagall is watching us like a hawk? And when have you willingly touched me, a Mudblood?"

He winced at my last word but quickly made use of his indifferent façade and shrugged. "I doubt your precious Pothead or his little weasel girlfriend are smart enough to deduce what's going on between us."

Now he had insulted Harry and Ginny! I guess I should have expected that. In that moment the last few words of his retort filtered through my mind and I realized that even I didn't know what was going on between the two of us. It was time I found out. "And just what exactly is going on between us?"

"You look bloody stunning for one thing." My jaw dropped at the casualness of the comment, as if Malfoy tended to compliment me all the time and it was no big deal for him to say that he thought I looked pretty. "And considering I snogged you earlier and you didn't resist," he drawled, "I would venture to say the attraction is mutual."

"Wha-" I spluttered. I was about to defend myself and explain just how ridiculous that particular theory was, but I grudgingly realized he was right. I had always secretly admired his aristocratic features (what girl wouldn't?), although his dark personality and constant insults kept my feelings from becoming anything more than mere appreciation of a male specimen. But now, after having had kissed him and seeing a somewhat softer side of him, I could feel the stirrings of attachment I had pushed back so long ago returning to the forefront of my mind and increasing drastically.

He smirked his trademark smirk. I oddly found myself liking the way his eyes sparkled. Seeing that I wasn't about to object, he said smugly, "Exactly."

"Just because we kissed one time… that does not erase everything you've done in the past. You may be good-looking, but your behavior and attitude toward the world are anything but."

His face fell and his expression morphed from being smug to looking incredibly guilt-ridden. The change was something that boggled my mind. I had thought the Malfoys didn't express their emotions, or even allow themselves to feel them, for that matter. "I suppose I should apologize for all of that. It wasn't personal, Granger, really." If I had been bemused before, I was completely out of my mind now. He transfigured a nearby chair into a bench and gestured for me to take a seat. Hesitantly, I did so and he then sat next to me, leaving a decent amount of space between us.

I was shell-shocked. Here was _the_ Draco Malfoy, the boy who had previously insulted me every chance he was given, the boy I had deemed heartless and evil, and he was civilly apologizing to me for what he had said and done in the past. And above all, he looked completely sincere. What was the world coming to? I brought myself out of my thoughts with a rough shake of my head and noticed Malfoy looking at me questioningly. Assuming he was asking my permission to continue with his speech, I nodded. He took a deep, calming breath and resumed speaking.

"As you know, my idiot father strongly adheres to the beliefs and roles of blood supremacy. Since the moment I was able to talk I was taught to despise any human of less than pure blood and all magical creatures. He said that they were below those of pure blood and didn't deserve to exist at all. I was taught that the rest of the world existed to serve me. I was young and didn't know any better. He was my father and I looked up to him, and so I believed him without question.

"My mother was resistant to going against his wishes despite her anxiety of allowing me to incorporate myself with the Dark Arts. Although she disliked how I was treated, she rarely stood up against my father. Things only became worse one the Dark Lord returned." He shuddered as he spoke of Voldemort and I couldn't help but pity him.

I had seen Voldemort enough to last several lifetimes, but to actually _house_ and be forced to serve the evil snake must have been beyond traumatizing. I felt the strongest urge to reach over and pull him into my arms to comfort him. I nearly gave in. before I could, He continued his story.

"You have always been at the top of our class and it drove my father insane. How could I allow a Mud – muggle-born to show me up? How dare I disgrace the Malfoy name in such a manner?" Draco sneered, either from intense hatred of his father or a very convincing imitation of the man. "The insults kept coming and the discipline methods he chose became more frequent and more severe as the years passed."

"He _hit_ you?" I exclaimed incredulously, interrupting him without really thinking about it. I had always known that Lucius Malfoy was despicable, from both personal experience and stories from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but for the man to beat his own son?

Draco (Wait, when did I begin to refer to him as Draco? Oh right, since my damned Gryffindor compassion learned more details of his horrid past) released an empty, bitter laugh that in any other situation would have had me worried. "At first. As I aged he chose more _'efficient'_ forms of punishment." When I merely continued to gape speechlessly, he whispered, "He became fond of the Crutaicus _**(kind of forgot how to spell that, so I apologize if it's wrong)**_ curse."

He looked so broken… so vulnerable in that moment; I could no longer resist my instinct to comfort him. I wrapped my arms around him in a warm embrace, only vaguely remembering that this was Malfoy I was hugging. He tensed minutely in my arms at first, but after a slight hesitation he embraced me in return. I could feel his body shaking with silent sobs. I rubbed soothing circles into his back, hoping that the action brought him some sort of comfort, while muttering soothing nonsense into his ear. He was trying to speak as he sobbed, but I could only catch a few of the words that were leaving his mouth: _Hermione, Sorry, _and _Oh Merlin, _being repeated brokenly over and over again. Eventually his breathing returned to normal and his sobs ceased.

We sat there silently. Neither of us made to move or speak. I noticed, to my surprise, that I didn't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable with my current position in Malfoy's arms. I was a bit flummoxed as to where his sudden release of emotion came from, in front of me of all people, but I pushed the thought aside. I felt… complete. As cliché as it sounded, it was as if a missing piece of me had been found and placed in a hole that I hadn't even been aware of.

Malfoy shuffled out of my grasp and I suddenly felt a pang of loss. Again, I pushed the thought aside. He must have felt it too considering he instantly gripped my hand once he was free of the embrace. I was glad for the contact and for the fact that I wasn't the alone concerning these new feelings.

"You're the only person I've ever allowed to hold me like that," he confessed quietly, looking determinedly at his spotless black dress shoes. "Other than my mother, anyway." He then stared at our joined hands and I found myself subconsciously weaving our fingers together. He looked up at me and smiled, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"What does this all mean for us?" I hated to ruin the beauty of the moment we just shared, but my mind was a whirlwind of unanswered questions and concerns. I needed solid logic behind these recent events. I needed a plan. And above all else I needed to know what Malfoy was playing at.

He visibly swallowed. I had no doubt he was having difficulty allowing himself to speak his thoughts, thoughts that must be so foreign to him. "I don't exactly know… Malfoys aren't usually allowed to be in touch with their feelings. This is the first time I've ever felt this way about anyone, yet alone acknowledge said feelings to anyone but myself. It's a bit overwhelming, honestly."

It seemed tonight was full of bombshell confessions, even if the majority of them were on his part. He had still yet to say the words I needed to hear… the answered I needed to hear. Why did we feel this way about each other? What _were_ these feelings? I could tell by his tone of voice and the expression on his face that whatever feelings he had for me were nothing but sincere, but I was still apprehensive to accept the reality of things… of the likelihood of these feelings.

But could anyone blame me? Especially Draco himself? For nearly seven years he ahd treated me with nothing but disdain; although seeing his vulnerable side had me seeing him in a new light, my mind's logic was cautioning me that it could all be fake, a trap of some sort. Alas my heart, after all its previous years of submission to my stubborn logic, was fighting to be heard, to be listened to and obeyed.

_Trust him, _it said. _He is confiding in you, letting his guard down. He wouldn't be doing this if it was all for show. He needs someone. You can be that someone. You might be his only chance. _And for whatever reason (I blame my damned Gryffindor compassion), I chose to listen to my heart for once. I only hoped I wouldn't come to regret my choice later on.

"I forgive you," I said quietly, interrupting his newest rambling confession about his past. Something about never truly hating Harry, but being extremely envious of him.

He paused mid-sentence and stared at me as if I had just said I was marrying Snape. He looked drastically… Un-Malfoy-ish in that moment. His mouth gaped wide open and his eyes were wide with shock. The resemblance to a fish out of water was uncanny, and I nearly laughed aloud.

"You do?" he asked eventually, matching my tone and volume.

As sure as I was about my decision just ten seconds ago, I hesitated. This would be my final chance to get out. This would be the point of no return.

Before I could control my vocal chords, I found myself answering him. "Yes, truly. I feel as if I better understand the stress and pressures you were under in the past," I explained. "To9 be perfectly honest, I had no idea your home life was that bad, Malfoy."

"It's Draco."

"What?"

"Call me Draco. I'd prefer it over the use of my surname." I gave him a strange look and he added, "Malfoy reminds me of my father. I want to be nothing like him."

I winced as I imagined how awful it must feel to be compared to Lucius. "Sorry." I cleared my throat. "Sorry, _Draco._"

The name of my once bitter rival rolled off my tongue much easier than I would have ever expected. It seemed almost natural to address him by his given name.

He smiled at me and replied, "Apology accepted, _Hermione._"

"You know, you've yet to actually apologize to me," I retorted playfully.

"Then allow me to make it up to you." His voice had gone from playful to seductive in a millisecond, a feat I was sure only he could pull off successfully.

For the second time that day I found myself being snogged by none other than Draco Malfoy.

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><p><em><strong>AN: I try to write a witty argument and then sweet Draco comes out. I guess I just can't stay mad at him and thus neither can Hermione.**_

_**Next update will hopefully be a bit more fun and a bit less emotional, but we'll see what happens.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hello again. Thank you for the alerts/favorites. Can't say how much it means to me that my first ever Dramione story is getting some kind of support. Dramione was my first ever fanfic so I hope I'm somewhat doing them justice, although I'm sure my perception of them is different than most people.**_

_**I apologize for the horrific wait in between chapters and any annoyance/frustration that may have caused.**_

_**In this chapter we have the dreaded (although not so dreaded anymore) Heads dance and the remainder of the ball.**_

_**Question: Would anyone be interested in a chapter written in Draco's POV?**_

_**Enjoy the chapter! :D**_

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><p>I'll admit that the second kiss was better than the first. If nothing else, it definitely distracted me from the fact that we were in a place where we could easily be seen. Draco (I had finally allowed myself to call him such, seeing as I had kissed him twice and all) kept my mind and mouth occupied for a whole three minutes before releasing me.<p>

He stood before me, smiling contently. I was sure my mouth was gaping unattractively. My first impulse was to kiss him again, and never stop. My second impulse was to slap him, just like I had in our third year. In the end, the impulse that won was neither. Instead of kissing him as I so desired to do or slapping him silly like my logical brain told me was necessary, I wrapped my arms around him and engulfed him in a tight hug. Surprisingly, he didn't tense or show any hesitation at all as he hugged me back, but I guess that was to be expected. He had just told me a huge portion of his life story and kissed me, so of course he'd be more partial to my touch and affection.

"Well, that was…"

"Unexpected?" he supplied with a smug smile as he used my own words from our last kiss.

"Actually, Draco, I was going to say wonderful." It was my turn to smile smugly at him as he realized what my words implied.

"That's… great."

"Indeed it is."

We sat silently, still in a tight embrace, for a few moments before I finally broke the silence.

"We should probably be getting back. I'm sure we've already missed the Heads dance and McGonagall is not going to be happy about that."

Draco reluctantly unwound his arms from around my torso and stood up, extending a hand to help me up. I graciously accepted and allowed him to pull me to my feet. He kept my hand firmly in his, even after I had gained my footing, and I didn't mind a bit. Together we made our way back in the ball, and I unconsciously squeezed Draco's hand in mine. As we neared closer to the crowds of rowdy students, Draco's grip only tightened. I was a bit perplexed by his actions. Was he planning on the two of us walking into the room still holding hands? What did that mean? What if Harry saw? Or worse… Ronald? I was overanalyzing the consequences, and I knew it, but I couldn't help myself. My rational side was taking over again, leaving my heart silently pleading in the background.

I tried to wrestle my hand out of Draco's grip before it was too late. Why didn't we speak of this out in the hall? Where was the plan I had so desperately wanted and needed? How had I not thought of this before? _Oh, right, _I thought derisively, _I was too busy fawning over being kissed._

Draco noticed my struggle and looked at me, concern shining brightly in his usually dark grey eyes. I gestured helplessly to our entwined hands and then out to the students we were quickly approaching. He seemed to get the gist of what I was attempting to say and nodded, slowly disentangling his hand from mine. I smiled gratefully but instantly felt the smile slip as he turned his head. Had that been hurt that just flashed across his features…?

Before I could question him, the Headmistress was standing before us, giving us each her sternest professorial glare. I hung my head in shame, knowing that McGonagall was most certainly disappointed and could possibly even take my Head privileges, or worse…my badge, for not being present for the mandatory ceremonial first dance. I felt more than saw as Draco brushed my hand comfortingly with his. The contact was brief, but I found myself smiling anyway. I looked up at McGonagall, making sure my expression was the right mix of shame and apology. I was surprised to find her smiling.

"While I am ecstatic to see that the two of you are getting along, I must save that conversation for another time. Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, if you would please follow me to the stage." And with a swish of her billowing robes, she was striding off. Two thoughts immediately occupied my mind: _What exactly just happened?_ and _Do all headmasters have robes that billow like that?_

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

Draco's voice pulled me from my thoughts and I nodded. "Yeah, just a bit taken aback. I was sure we'd be in so much trouble for being out of the room."

Draco nodded his assent. "Yeah, me too. But no use in looking the gift horse in the mouth, right?"

I gasped. Draco looked at me bemusedly, so I explained myself. "That's a muggle saying," I whispered breathlessly. I knew Draco was intelligent and cultured, but a muggle saying was still beyond what I had ever expected to find in his idiom arsenal.

He merely shook his head with a chuckle. "Like I said earlier, all that blood supremacy crap never really meant anything to me. I still read muggle books that my mother brought me from her travels around the continent, although I did have to hide them from Father," he mused.

Again, my mind exploded. Draco read muggle literature? I was beyond curious. I wanted to ask him so many questions. Who had he read? What book was his favorite? Did he know muggle poets, too? Even muggle music perhaps? And did that mean his mother shared in sentiments in the blood supremacy department? Was Narcissa Malfoy more than she seemed in the same way that Draco had been?

Unfortunately, there was no time for my inquiries just now. Draco tapped my arm to bring me back to reality and pointed up toward McGonagall who was, once again tonight, looking at me pointedly from her position on the stage. I grabbed the corner of my dress as to not have to worry about tripping and hurriedly strode toward her with Draco following amusedly in my wake.

I made it to the stage as gracefully as possible in my rush and climbed the stairs to stand primly beside my Headmistress. Draco calmly climbed the steps and took his place beside me, closer than he would have stood merely three months ago. Hopefully no one in the audience would take notice, but I knew that was a vain hope. A few students looked up as they noticed the presence of three people on the stage. Eventually the whole of the Great Hall was faced in my direction, a majority of the eyes looking me up and down. I felt myself flush unwillingly; I still wasn't comfortable with being the center of attention, even after all my escapades with Harry.

_**3**__**rd**__** Person POV**__** (I feel that this part flows better in third person. Hopefully it's not too annoying of a quick shift.)**_

McGonagall amplified her voice with a simple spell and cleared her throat, effectively gaining the attention of everyone in the hall. Once she was satisfied with the silence that enveloped the hall, she spoke.

"Welcome everyone. I hope you are all enjoying yourselves appropriately tonight. As you all know, it is a long-standing Hogwarts tradition for the Head Boy and Girl to open each ball with a customary waltz. If everyone would please clear the dance floor for the time being, that dance will occur now. Thank you."

The students who had been milling about on the dance floor moved over to stand at its fringes. Those who had previously been occupied in some other activity scooted closer toward the dance floor to be able to get a better view. Hermione noticed that Ginny and Harry were at the front of the crowd nearest to the dance floor and felt her stomach roil with anxiety. Ginny was observant and bound to notice how Draco would inevitably be holding Hermione differently that he usually did. And then she would point her observation out to Harry, would be certainly be angry about the situation and demand to know the whole story. Which, honestly, she didn't even know herself. So what was she to say if such a situation came about? Hermione could imagine it now:

'_Oh, hey Harry._

_Hermione, what was Malfoy doing holding you like that?_

_Well you see, we've snogged twice tonight and he told me most of his reasoning behind his past behavior. Oh, and I think I may love him rather than just fancy him.'_

_That would go perfectly_, Hermione thought sourly to herself. Hermione felt a light tug on her arm and was pulled out of her never-ending thoughts for what had to be at least the fifth time that night. Draco was leading her down the steps and toward the center of the makeshift dance floor. She allowed herself to be dragged along, deciding to use the time to instead gaze out at the crowd that was parting ways as she passed.

She briefly locked eyes with various Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors who looked on sympathetically. _If only they knew_, Hermione thought wryly. Any Slytherins she had the displeasure of passing either sneered disdainfully or glowered at her. _Well, _she thought,_ at least that's one thing that won't change._ Hermione felt gravity catch up to her as Draco suddenly stopped and she crashed into him. He caught her nimbly, not saying a word even as an outraged gasp arose from the more vocal prejudiced Slytherins in attendance.

They stood there silently, in the beginning position of the waltz that the both of them knew so well by now. After a few seconds' pause, the gentle melody of the Danube filled the room. A hush fell over the entirety of students in the hall and Hermione's world quickly narrowed until only she and Draco existed.

He led her gracefully across the floor in a well-practiced dance and Hermione followed his lead mindlessly, not even needing to think of the steps to be able to keep up with his slightly longer strides. Even if she was capable of thought in that moment, Hermione doubted it would have made a difference. She was too caught up by Draco's mesmerizing eyes. The earlier light grey had transformed into molten silver sometime between their departure from the stage and their arrival on the dance floor. The eyes that Hermione had once despised were now ones she so desperately loved.

Draco spun Hermione toward the center of the dance floor, away from the prying ears of gossiping eavesdroppers. Once they were safely out of anyone's earshot, Draco pulled Hermione just a tad bit closer and began to sway. He leaned down and pressed a soft, quick kiss onto the top of her hair and Hermione felt herself shiver due to the intimacy they were currently sharing, in the middle of a crowded room no less.

"I feel obligated to tell you how beautiful you look when you blush," he whispered quietly, for her ears only.

She felt her cheeks alight which caused the man holding her to release a soft chuckle. Rather than expostulate _**(word I've been dying to find a use for, hehe)**_, Hermione gave in to her baser instincts and allowed herself to lean into Draco's hold and lay her cheek comfortably against his rising and falling chest.

_**Hermione's POV**__** back to normal POV)**_

It all felt so surreal, to be swaying in the middle of the Great Hall in the arms of my once bitter enemy/rival. I was encompassed in this ethereal bliss that I knew would have to end much sooner than I'd like, but I was determined to enjoy it while it lasted. My mind was stubbornly pointing out the flaws with this plan: Ginny and Harry were most likely watching with their jaws dropped and would want an explanation later, an explanation she didn't really have as of yet; Ron would throw a fit the second he could get her alone; and to top it all off, the school would be abuzz with outrageous rumors. But for the third time tonight, I found myself disregarding my logical thoughts and clinging to my emotional ones. I would enjoy my time at the ball with Draco and deal with the consequences later.

Before I knew it the song was slowing to a close. Draco finished the dance with an extravagant dip that I was most certainly _not_ expecting and I told him so with a mock glare as I looked up into his eyes from my nearly horizontal position in his grasp. He merely smirked and winked at me before pulling me back up into a much better vertical position. Even two days ago, that would have annoyed me to no end. But now I merely smiled in return, finding it oddly endearing. That was one good thing about Draco: I knew no matter what direction our sudden… relationship (I guess I could call it that?) went in, that he would always have that sarcastic, pratty side of him that I wouldn't change for the world.

As the music came to a complete end and the others clapped politely, Draco grasped my hand and pulled me into his arms, bowing as he did so. Other than a short gasp of surprise from me, the move looked completely pre-planned, for which I was glad. Soon after the band began to play an upbeat song, the majority of students looked on in shock for a few seconds before shaking themselves and then going back to their previous discussions. Draco took this opportunity to pull me away and toward the refreshments table.

"A drink for my date?" he asked charmingly. I nodded and he dashed off to grab us some drinks, leaving me alone to my thoughts. Not for long though, unfortunately.

"Hey, 'Mione." I turned to see Ginny and Harry walking in my direction and barely repressed a groan. I knew this was coming. I suppose I should have prepared myself beforehand. Now it was too late. I would just have to wing it.

"Hey, Gin. Hey, Harry," I replied cheerfully.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry replied. Once they reached my side Harry kissed my cheek in greeting, something he had gotten in the habit of doing since the time Rona had left us on the Horcrux hunt. I had been an emotional mess and Harry had been there to keep me together. That was when our sibling-like bond became concrete, more so than it had been before, and Harry took it upon himself ever since then to take an interest in my well-being at all times. "Having fun?"

"Yep."

"Malfoy's not bothering you, right?"

I sighed. "No, he isn't. He's on his best behavior tonight, I assure you."

"Alright, as long as you're doing okay." He gave me a suspicious look, but with a nudge from Ginny he let it drop. For that I was grateful; I had to make sure to give Ginny some extra chocolate at our next sleepover.

"I can assure you that she's doing just fine," said a smooth voice from behind Harry. We turned in tandem to see Draco approaching my side with two drinks in hand. Harry stepped back towards Ginny as Draco handed me my drink. I took it from him and shot him a small smile which he returned.

Ginny sighed wistfully and all attention was soon on her. She flushed and immediately defended herself. "What? It was cute!"

I sighed and shook my head, but she didn't seem to be getting the message. She went on about how my and Draco's children would without a doubt be the smartest to ever attend Hogwarts and how she was so glad I had finally found someone. I anxiously looked to Draco to see his reaction on Ginny's conclusions, hoping she wasn't scaring him off. The two of us hadn't even discussed being in an official relationship yet! And here Ginny was talking about a future for the two of us, one with children no less! Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly depending on the way you thought about recent events, Draco didn't seem angered by her words. He didn't look to be frightened or annoyed; rather, his lips were graced by the slightest of smiles that I only noticed due to my proximity. To anyone else it would look as if he was merely humoring the redhead. But even humoring a Weasley was a drastic change to the usual indifference or annoyance he bestowed upon anyone. I was hoping against hope that he had somehow grown a soft spot for Ginny. If we were to have a real relationship, he'd need it.

Throughout Ginny's rambling, Harry's face remained impassive as it had since the second Draco moved to stand by my side. He discreetly scrutinized Draco's every move; every facial twitch, every sigh, every breath. I found it all to be a bit overdramatic, but then I remembered exactly how Draco was perceived by the majority of the school. His reputation had always preceded him. The bad guy, the Death Eater, Lucius' only son. The promiscuous Slytherin Sex God. The unfeeling, degrading jackass. And the list went on. It was completely understandable that Harry would be cautious, but I wished with all of my heart that he would find it in his own heart to accept Draco, for me if nothing else.

"Are you quite done?" Ginny finished her sentence and fixed Draco with a dark glare. When she didn't continue speaking, Draco continued. "Right. Well, as I'll have to get used to being in your company more often now, I propose we talk civilly. And I would appreciate it if you would kindly tell Potter to stop looking at me as if I'm going to off him any second now. If I was going to curse him, I would have done so already." He calmly sipped his drink as Harry spluttered at being caught out right. After a hushed demand from Ginny, he averted his gaze from Draco's features to mine.

He took a deep breath, presumably to calm himself, and looked me straight in the eye. "Hermione, what is Malfoy talking about?"

I looked in Draco's direction for some assistance on the topic, but I received none. Thinking it over, I guess hoping for Draco's help with talking to Harry never really had a good chance. I sighed, frustrated, and looked back in Harry's direction. A part of him seemed to be pleading me to tell him it was all sick joke, that Draco was talking about our both being Heads and nothing more. The other part of him, the larger part, seemed to already know it was something much bigger than that. I decided to try to ease him into the news little by little and go from there depending on his reactions. It seemed the most logical idea to me.

"Harry," I replied cautiously. Harry already knew form my tone of voice that he wasn't going to like what I had to say and his eyes narrowed. I swallowed, but pushed on. "What Draco meant is that we need to put all of the bad blood behind us. We're going to be out in the real world soon and the war is over. We fought that war for a reason, Harry, and I would hope you remember that after I'm done speaking." I paused to let that tidbit sink in before continuing. "I can't lie to you, Harry. You're really the brother I've never had. The truth is," I looked over to Draco, giving him one last chance to say something before I confessed to our mutual snogging sessions earlier on in the day. He said nothing. What a load of help he was ending up being. "The truth is… Draco and I kissed earlier today… twice, actually."

Harry's jaw dropped and Ginny giggled excitedly. I wasn't sure whether or not I should be happy for Ginny's support. Of course it was nice to have someone on my side when my feelings for Draco were in question, but I knew that despite going through the war she was still just a tad too gossipy for my tastes. The questioning I had been expecting already was about to turn ten times worse.

Harry's expression quickly morphed into one of deep thought. Before I could speak any further, he grabbed Ginny's hand and began to walk away. "This conversation isn't over, Hermione." And with that ominous promise, my two best friends were gone.

"Well, that was interesting," Draco commented idly.

"Interesting? _Interesting?_" I felt my temper rising and tried in vain to calm myself. "What is so _interesting_ about the possibility that Harry may never speak to me again?"

"Relax. Potter would never do that. You have him wrapped around your little finger. Without your help, we'd all be under Voldemort's reign by now."

"I resent that you believe I would do that to Harry. I do_ not _have him 'wrapped around my little finger.'"

"Yes, you do."

"_No, _I do not."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, because you do indeed have him right in the palm of your hand."

"So now he's in the palm of my hand?"

"Same difference."

"Shut up, Draco."

"So you admit it?"

"Fine," I huffed resignedly. "But that doesn't ease my anxiety on the subject."

"Look, I can guarantee you that he'll come around. For your sake, if no one else's."

Seeing that his words were having no profound effect on me, Draco tenuously wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side, attempting to offer comfort in a way I was sure he wasn't particularly fond of. But for me it was the thought that counted and the fact that he was attempting to comfort me at all made all the difference.

I leaned into his loose hold gratefully. Any negative thoughts floated out of my mind while I let myself melt into his arms. It felt so right, so perfect. And if Harry couldn't accept it, well then it was too bad for him. I was tired of doing everything for everyone else. I always played the peacemaker between Ron and Harry when they fought, most monumentally during their tiff over the Tri-Wizard Tournament. If I could fight for them, then they could fight for me.

"Want to get out of here?"

I remained silent for only a second before nodding my assent. Draco and I walked out of the Great Hall hand-in-hand, ignoring any and all reactions from our fellow peers. We walked out into the hall and I let my feet take control as my mind wandered. When I next looked up I saw the staircase that led up to the Astronomy Tower. Draco followed as I climbed the steep steps. Once I reached the top, I inhaled a deep lung full of the fresh late spring air.

"Better?" I felt his arm wrap loosely around my waist and I smiled as I looked out over the grounds from the railings.

"Much better, thanks."

"Glad to hear it."

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><p><em><strong>AN: I just liked ending the chapter there so… yeah. Don't feel shy: Review! :D**_

_**So I'm trying to get ahead by at least a couple of chapters so hopefully I won't leave you hanging for too long.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: I apologize endlessly for taking so long to update. I have just not been in the writing zone for a while. Hope this is satisfactory.**_

_**Oh, and I have a question: Is anyone interested in having chapter(s) written in Draco's POV? Let me know either way, please.**_

_**I think this is going to be the second to last chapter of the 'flashback' about the ball so you can expect the chapter to soon be set back in the 'present.'**_

_**The chapter is mostly dialogue, so hope it doesn't bother anyone too much. Sorry it's so short.**_

_**Hope you enjoy. Please review.**_

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><p>I walked with Draco back to the Great Hall for the third, and hopefully last, time that night. After standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower for a half hour, he finally convinced me to go back to the ball. It was our duty as Heads to supervise the dance, he reminded me. He knew I was a sucker for my responsibilities, especially after having already disappointing McGonagall's expectations earlier. And so Draco had manipulated me in that Slytherin way of his and now I was standing in the doorway of the Great Hall, looking around the room for any signs of trouble.<p>

"Relax," Draco said from beside me.

"I'm fine."

He grasped my shoulder and turned me around to face him. "No, you're not."

"Ok fine, I _am_ still a bit tense from the conversation with Harry," I conceded.

"I figured as much," he replied. He looked around the room, a look of determination on his features. "Come on, let's go dance for a bit."

"Draco," I chastised, "What if someone sees?"

"Do you really care about that now?"

I took a moment to take Draco's words into consideration. Did I care whether or not our relationship was public knowledge at Hogwarts? On the one hand it would be nice to be able to explore the possibilities of a relationship with Draco without having to worry about keeping it hidden. On the other hand, if everyone at Hogwarts knew then it wouldn't be long before everyone in Wizarding London knew. Rita Skeeter had quite a few sources inside Hogwarts, after all. What if the Malfoys didn't take to her as easily as Draco had?

"I don't know…" I said aloud, keeping my thoughts to myself.

"You don't know?" He asked with a skeptically lifted platinum brow. "Or you don't care to tell me?"

"Draco, it's not that. I promise you."

"Then what is it?"

"I… I don't know what this is! I'm not even certain what's going on between us, so how can I be sure that I want to speak about it publically? How _can _I speak of it publically?"

"I should have known you'd overanalyze all of this."

I gasped. Did he really not understand my concerns at all?

"Hermione," he interspersed his reply with a sigh before continuing. "I didn't mean that in a negative way. Your analytical mind, your wit and intelligence, are the very things that drew me to you in the beginning." He reached out and took my hands gently into his grasp and I felt my heart beat quicken in response. What was going on with me? Why was my body reacting in such a way when, in a way, he had just insulted me minutes prior?

"If you truly feel that way, then I don't understand how you could think that I would be okay with all of this. I can't just _go with the flow_, Draco. I need a plan, logic, structure."

"Why won't you just take this chance with me?" His eyes gleamed in the torchlight, his voice more pleading than I had ever heard it in my life, and I found that I couldn't tear myself away from his intense gaze no matter how badly I wished to.

"I…"

Draco shook his head and turned away from me. He dropped my hands and released a long sigh. "Forget it."

"Draco, please, you have to try to understand-"

He turned back to face me and I almost stumbled backwards from the heat the flared in his eyes. "What do I have to try to understand?" he hissed. "That you're _ashamed_ of me? That despite our obvious connection you'd rather continue to _loathe_ me as you had before? That you don't wish to tarnish your _perfect_ little reputation with someone the likes of me?"

"No!" Heads turned in our direction and I quickly lowered my voice. "No, that's not it at all. Draco –"

"If you insist on continuing to use my given name, I'd be sure to say something worth hearing. Otherwise feel free to revert back to our old arrangement."

I subconsciously winced. His voice, which had been so gentle and warm mere moments ago, was now cold and threatening as I had always remembered it. What could I say that would convince him to forgive me?

_Wait_,_ what have I done that needs forgiving? I was merely being honest with him about my feelings. If anything, he should be apologizing to me for being so blatant in his disregard for my thoughts and concerns!_

"We have duties to attend to," I replied in the same cold tone he had utilized. "We'll discuss this like adults once we return to our quarters."

"Whatever you say, Granger."

I walked away quickly, using all of my reserve to hold in the tears that desperately wished to escape the confines of my eyes. I kept my head down and kept walking aimlessly, until I walked into someone and nearly fell. Two strong hands reached out and grasped my forearms to steady me. I looked about to apologize, but all words died in my throat.

"Ginny, said I'd find you here."

"Ron, please. Let me explain."

"No, you don't have to explain it to me. I think I get the gist of it all."

I tried to protest, but the words died in my mouth. What exactly had Ginny, and possibly Harry, told him?

"Do you love him?"

The question caused my heart to race, both from nerves and that connection I felt whenever Draco was as much as mentioned in passing. I remained silent, either due to the fact it was _Ron_ who had asked such a thing or merely because I wasn't ready to admit to such a thing.

"It's alright if you do," Ron continued softly. "I can understand why."

I titled my head curiously. "Why would you say that?"

Ron sighed and pointed to an empty table in a silent invitation to sit. I nodded and lopped my arm through his as we walked to the table and sat across from each other. Once we were settled Ron glanced behind me towards the doors of the Great Hall and I just knew that he was looking at Draco and Draco was, in turn, looking at me. I could feel the dull burn on the back of my skull and Draco was the only person who sent shivers down my spine with a mere look, the only person who gave me such a feeling.

Ron looked back to me and spoke quietly. "He's… changed since the war ended. He's been quieter, less prattish. He's always been second only to you in our class, so I'm sure you'd find him to be smart enough for your standards. He's gone through hell, and you've always been the type to save people."

I didn't know what to say. Never had Ron been so… sensible. I suppose the war had changed all of us, one way or another. What happened to the Ron who had the emotional range of a teaspoon?

"If you love him, Hermione, even if it's just a little spark, you should give him a chance."

"I never thought I'd see the day," I commented in awe.

"What day?" There was the Ron I was used to, the adorably confused one.

"The day that you'd make more sense than me."

He laughed and I joined him. It felt good to laugh, to release all the tension that had built up from my spats with Harry and Draco. It felt amazing to just let things go for once.

"I can't say I blame you," Ron ultimately replied once we regained control of ourselves. "But that's the funny thing about life: it changes us."

"So, does that mean I have your blessing to try to see what I can work out with Draco, then?" I asked, seeking confirmation of the faith of at least one of my three best friends.

Ron grasped my fidgety hands in his and smiled. "I think you should do whatever will make you happy, 'Mione. And if the rotten Slytherin makes you happy, then I say to go for it."

I smiled back. One of my friends listened to me, believed I could make the right choices for myself. Who would have thought that Ron would be the level-headed one and Harry would be the one to overreact?

"Thank you, Ron," I said sincerely as I squeezed the hand that was holding mine.

"But if the git even harms one hair on your head or makes you shed a single tear," Ron declared imposingly.

I chuckled wetly, smiling brightly at one of my oldest friends. "I know, Ron. You can have whatever's left of him once I'm through, I promise you."

Ron chuckled as well. "That's all I ask."

"Do you-" I paused, swallowed the lump in my throat, and continued on. "Do you think you could talk to Harry for me?"

Ron nodded, a determined look on his face. "Of course. I'll see what I can do. I'm sure Gin and I can talk some sense into him."

"Thank you, Ron," I reiterated.

"Not a problem." He looked toward the dance floor where some couples still swayed together as the party died down. "Would you like to dance with me?"

I looked around, taking in the surroundings with a trained eye. No one seemed to be causing trouble, and McGonagall was on hand if a situation arose. I nodded and smiled, taking Ron's extended hand and allowing him to lead me to the makeshift dance floor.

The band was playing a slow song that I faintly recognized. Ron smiled at me and took me into his arms, comfortably positioning my chin on his shoulder. We swayed together in small circles, each lost in our own thoughts and the peace that enveloped us.

Time flew and before I knew it McGonagall was ordering all of the remaining students back to their rooms. I looked up at Ron to see that he too was slightly surprised at how quickly time had passed.

"Well, shall I walk you to your dorm?" Ron suggested genially.

"That would be great," I replied.

Together, arm in arm, the two of us left the Great Hall and walked out into the corridors along with the others. I glanced around, trying to see if I could catch a glimpse of Draco's signature platinum blond hair in the crowd of people, but I didn't see any sign of him. I hoped he was alright, wherever he was.

We walked the halls in a companionable silence, neither of us seeing a necessity for idle chatter. All too soon, we stood before the portrait that led into the Heads dorms.

"It was great spending time with you," Ron said as he dropped my arm.

"You too," I replied happily. "It's been too long."

"It has," he agreed. "Perhaps I should ditch Lavender more often."

"Ron," I admonished. Lavender may not have been my favorite person, but every girl deserved to be treated with respect by her boyfriend of all people.

"I'm only kidding," he assured. He glanced warily at the portrait beside us and asked, "Are you going to be alright in there?"

I sighed. I had promised Draco we would speak when we returned to our dorm, and I could only imagine how angry he must be after my spending time with Ron. But we needed to talk this out like reasonable adults. It was the only way to settle things.

"I'll be fine," I assured him.

"If you're sure?"

"I am."

"Goodnight, then, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Ron."

I watched as my friend walked away until he was around the corner and out of sight. I took a calming breath to steady myself for the inevitable confrontation before turning to the portrait and saying the password.

Once I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, I was expecting a litany of insults to be thrown my way, but I was wrong. All was silent. My nerves were immediately on edge. Shying away from confrontation was definitely _not_ Draco's style.

_Something must be wrong._

"Draco?" I called as I walked further into the room. "Draco, are you here?"

"I'm in my room," came the muffled response.

I followed the silver carpet that led to his room and knocked on his door. Seconds later Draco stood in the now open doorway, his hair is disarray and his clothing ruffled. He stepped back and motioned for me to enter. I walked into his room as calmly as I could manage, despite the nervous energy coursing through my veins.

"Sit," he requested, motioning to his queen size bed that sat against one wall. I obliged quietly. He sat beside me, silently running a hand through his already mussed hair. "I suppose you wish to talk now?"

"I do, if you're alright?"

"I'm fine. Let's just get this over with."

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><p><em><strong>AN: Hope no one wants to kill me too badly. I'll read any and all death threats you choose to send me for taking so long to update.**_

_**I don't really like Ron much to be honest, but I feel as if Harry would feel betrayed and, hence, more irrational than Ron in his reaction to Hermione liking Draco. I know the story is moving along a bit quickly, but that's the way it's writing itself.**_

**_If you're still reading, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please let me know what you think, or where you'd like to see the story go from here. Thank you._**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Another chapter, another Dramione moment. :] I had one reader ask for some Draco POV, which you shall receive a taste of in this chapter. The first part will be the usual [Hermione] POV, and the second half will be Draco's (basically after the line break). The shift will be obvious, so no worries.**_

_**Thank you so much for the reviews/alerts/favorites. I cannot express my undying gratitude enough. :D Speaking of reviews, there was an anon review by the name of **_SkyToTheHigh. _**If you're reading this, thank you for your review. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but it just felt like the right place to end the chapter.**_

_**Enjoy! And if you feel especially kind, leave a review!**_

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><p>I took a moment in the tense silence that followed his statement to look Draco over. He looked extremely stressed, if that word was even the right word. I had never seen him so unlike his normally flawless self. Although I have to admit, even the distressed look he was sporting suited him.<p>

I took a deep breath to steel myself for the upcoming conversation. It was bound to be full of arguing, insults, and disagreements. But it had to be said, all of it.

"Draco," I sighed. This apprehensive energy was not making having this conversation any easier. Maybe there was a way to break the tension a bit…

"Granger," he sighed irritably in return.

"Aren't we past that nonsense yet?"

"Not if you expect me to give in to your demands so easily. I'm not Scarhead nor am I Weasel or any other little Gryffindor that bows to your every whim."

He was sneering, bringing back memories of the Draco Malfoy of my younger days. He had even resorted to his horrid nicknames for Harry and Ron. And to think, I had hoped we were making progress.

_Hermione, _I scolded myself,_ he's hurting. You know this is merely his defense mechanism. He chooses not to care, or at least act in such a way, so that he won't get hurt. You have to convince him to trust you again, that you won't hurt him purposefully._

"That's not what this is about," I told him as calmly as I could manage. "I don't expect you to 'bow to my every whim' nor do I expect you to 'give in so easily,' as you so wisely put it."

"So what's this about, then?"

"I thought that was obvious. This is about us discussing the possibilities of a real romantic relationship between the two of us and what that would entail."

"Wait… so you _do_ want to be with me?"

Not that I would ever admit it aloud, but Draco's face was adorable at this moment. His brows were scrunched in disbelief and he had the cutest confused expression I had ever seen. In his eyes there shone a slight glimmer of hope, and never in my life had I seen a hopeful Malfoy. It was quite appealing honestly, the way the low light of the dorm room enhanced the small glimmer.

"Yes," I replied laughingly. "Did I not make my intentions obvious enough the second time we kissed?"

Just like that the tension form earlier had gone. It was as if we had been joking for the past fifteen minutes rather than having an uncomfortable silence followed by even more uncomfortable words.

"Twice not enough for you?" The glimmer of hope transformed itself quickly into a glimmer of mischief. "I can arrange something for that."

I couldn't resist laughing at the horrible way he was waggling his eyebrows. It was too much. A part of me wondered how serious he was, while the other part wanted nothing more than to take him up on the offer. But now I had to keep focused. We needed to talk this all out. I had to know what Draco was thinking, what he was feeling, about this whole situation. He knew the majority of my thoughts and feelings already, so now I would give him the floor.

"As tempting as that sounds, I'm afraid it will have to wait until after this discussion."

His smirk fell the slightest bit at my words, but he soon rearranged his features into his trademark indifferent mask. I really needed to learn how to read through that if I wanted this relationship to last. When he spoke again, his voice lost the hint of mischief and turned entirely serious.

"Of course. Where should I begin?"

I thought it over to myself for a moment and responded, "The beginning, if you don't mind."

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><p>Look at me. Here I am, Draco Malfoy, sitting on my bed in my dorm room with none other than Hermione Granger, 'brightest witch of our age.' Me, Draco Malfoy, pureblood son of the known Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, conversing with the most well-known muggle-born to grace the hallowed halls of Hogwarts since Potter's own mother. Who would have thought something like this could be possible, let alone actually occur?<p>

Start at the beginning, she had said. The beginning of what exactly? The beginning of this year? The beginning of the war? The beginning of our careers at Hogwarts?

As if reading my mind, Hermione chose that moment to say, "The beginning of our acquaintance."

Well, that answered my question. She wasn't a Legilimens, was she? Because I had had enough mind probing with Snape and Voldemort. I didn't need from the girl I had come to love. Yes, I said love. I've been in denial for years, but I've finally accepted it. I think it was the kisses we had shared earlier than tipped the scales from _like _to _love_. Just in case she _could_ read my mind, I quickly launched into speech.

"Well, I'm sure you remember how we met." She nodded and I was glad to not have to think back to that day. "My father has always been a pretentious prick, so being second to you made my life difficult. I began to despise you, merely because I had to. I was taught certain beliefs, and the fact that you shattered each one of them made my father ridiculously angry. That led to harsher punishments which in turn led to my loathing of you." I sighed deeply. Ever since the revelation of the fact that I fancied the witch beside me, even thinking such vulgar things about her set me off. It was so much easier to just forget the bad blood between us. "Thankfully, I've already told you the more intimate details of that situation." She nodded silently. I wonder what was going on in that endlessly turning mind of hers?

"Yes, I remember," she replied sadly. "You don't need to reiterate it."

"Good. So, what is it exactly that you want to know?" I've never been really good at expressing my feelings in the first place, so it would be much easier if I could find out exactly what scenarios Hermione was interested in knowing about. Hopefully it wouldn't be too difficult to speak about such things with her. This whole 'tell-me-what-you're-feeling' thing was completely new for me.

Hermione took a second to ponder her question and I took the opportunity to once again admire how stunning she looked in that yellow dress. And then how much more ravishing she'd look without it.

"What happened between you and Pansy at the Yule Ball our fourth year?"

Whoa. Okay, not really a question I was expecting, but one I can answer easily enough.

"That was a bit unexpected," I remarked. She blushed an adorable pink color (_Did I just think the word 'adorable?')_ and I couldn't help but smirk a bit. "But, I shall answer nevertheless. I'm not sure how aware you are of my past arrangements with Parkinson, but to save your virgin ears I will merely say there was an arrangement between us from third year until the beginning of my sixth year."

Hermione scrunched her nose in disgust, which was another adorable quality, and released a quiet, "Ew."

"Come now, don't tell me you haven't at least considered sex before Granger?" I teased. There was just something about her that made it so enjoyable to tease her, despite the knowledge she could destroy me with a single spell if I went too far.

"You didn't answer my question," she skillfully deflected. "What happened at the Yule Ball?"

I sighed. This was going to be embarrassing. "She was having a tantrum because I was distracted by the entrance of another witch rather than paying all my attention to her." Perhaps Hermione would allow me to leave it at that.

"Which witch?"

Damn. I sighed another long-suffering sigh to stall for time. She rolled her eyes and looked at me expectantly. Damn her and her doe eyes. "You," I muttered reluctantly.

Her eyes widened for a millisecond, but then she did the oddest thing. She laughed. "Honestly Draco," she chuckled. "Tell me the truth. Who was it really? Daphne Greengrass? Cho Chang? One of the Patil twins?"

It was then my turn to laugh. "Greengrass is an utter bitch, Chang is a skank, and the Patils are horrid."

"Draco!" she spluttered indignantly.

"What?" I shrugged. I was just sharing my feelings on the subject. Isn't that what she wanted?

"You can't insult people like that!" she chided.

"Why not? I merely speak the truth."

"Regardless," Hermione began in what I had earlier on in our acquaintance dubbed her 'lecture voice,' "You shouldn't insult anyone so harshly."

"Even if it's the truth? Even if their actions lead them to deserve it?"

"Even then," she replied stubbornly.

"Then am I still a 'loathsome evil little cockraoch' or a 'bouncy ferret,' hmm?"

Her cheeks bloomed red and she looked down at her hands which were currently in her lap, ashamed. I smirked at my wit. Who else had ever cornered the witch at her own game?

"That's not something I'm exactly proud of," she grumbled. "But you did deserve it."

"My point exactly."

"Stop trying to change the subject, Draco."

Damn. Even I had initially forgotten the premise of this tangent, but of course she had remembered.

"If it wasn't any of those girls, then who was it? Truly."

"Truly?" She nodded her affirmation. "It was you."

"Draco, please, I'm getting a bit tired of this."

"Hermione, honestly, it was you. You were the star of the ball that year. All the guys with any sense couldn't take their eyes of you when you first entered." Her cheeks colored once again, from flattery or embarrassment I suppose, and she shook her head. "You can deny it all you'd like princess, but it's the truth."

"What happened afterward?"

"She dragged me out into the corridor and proceeded to whine at me. Then she stormed off and while I was enjoying the solitude, you ran out and began weeping on the staircase."

She winced, probably at the memory of the pain she had endured that night. It hurt me to see her feel such, which was another new feeling for me. Admittedly, I was remiss to bring up the subject at all, but she had pushed the topic. She nodded at me to continue, so I did so reluctantly.

"Then you and Weasel had that argument and you ran off. The only thing I could think at the time was how stupid Weaselbee must have been to ruin what chance he had with you. Nearly anyone at the ball who have killed to have your interest. You'd grown to be quite beautiful, you know."

What was I saying? Where was my infamous mind-to-mouth filter? Eh, who am I kidding? When I was around her, the filter didn't even exist anymore. The reclusive, arrogant boy I had once been was gone in her presence.

Besides, it was more than worth it to be rewarded with that adorable blushing of hers. Merlin, I'd become soft. If Blaise could hear me now…

"Why did you wait until sixth year to break it off with her then?"

Hermione's question brought me back to reality. She always went straight to the rough questions, straight to the point. I suppose that was something else I admired about her. _Stop being such a damn sappy pansy_, my mind berated.

"Sixth year was when my life became… complicated," I replied vaguely, once again hoping that Hermione wouldn't push the sensitive topic. I was wrong once again.

"Because of your orders from Voldemort?" she inquired sympathetically. If there was anything I hated, it was pity.

"Don't look at me that way!" I snapped. I couldn't help it. Pity from anyone was something I despised. I was a Malfoy, _Draco Malfoy._ I didn't need anyone's pity, let alone want it.

"You should talk about it," she said instead of commenting on my outburst.

"There's nothing to talk about. My asshole father forced me to take the Dark Mark by putting my mother and me in the situation in the first place, and Voldemort was a hypocritical psychopath who had a thing for hurting others that he considered below him, which was everyone really."

"Didn't you feel horrible though? Being forced into the dark arts that way."

"I did, and I still do at times. I hate my father for what he made me become and how horribly he treated my mother. I loathe everything he stood for."

"And?"

"Voldemort was a stupid halfblood bastard who didn't even reach his own pureblood supremacy standards. He was vile, evil, and hypocritical. And I _really_ would prefer to not speak anymore about this right now."

Thankfully, Hermione knew when to quit pushing. She took my clenched hands in hers and soothingly rubbed her fingers over the knuckles of my Quidditch-callused hands. The action caused me to relax and I exhaled a shaky breath I didn't' know I had been holding.

"You're not a bad person, Draco. Everyone has both good and evil inside them. What matters is the side you chose to accept and develop."

I wished I could have such a Gryffindor mentality. I wished I could be so optimistic. But I wasn't cut out to be that way. I was a Slytherin through and through. Lie, cheat, steal, and survive. Feelings were only a sign of weakness. But now… perhaps all of that was wrong?

"Thank you," I whispered. Any higher volume and the moment would pass, and I didn't want that. I wanted to hold on to this serenity for as long as possible.

Hermione pushed her heels from her feet and moved back t sit more comfortably on the bed. She gestured for me to follow suit, so I did. I allowed myself to lean into her side and just revel in the comfort and peace that surrounded us. It was such a rare feeling, an unorthodox moment, and I wistfully hoped it would never end.

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><p><em><strong>AN: Time for the age old question, dear readers: to write smut, or not to write smut?**_

_**Would you like to see some steamy details of the "quick shag" mentioned in chapter one, or would you prefer that I skim over it and get back to the present already? Let me know! Otherwise I will just assume no one wants smut.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Thank you all for the alerts/favorites/reviews! It seems if I want reviews all I need to do is tease you all with the possibility of Dramione smut. I will remember that in the future. Speaking of the subject, the response was mixed. Some said SMUT, some said, some steamy foreplay but not actual smut, and others said that's I should allude to the smut but not actually write it all out. I have personally never written smut before, although I have read tons of it, so I think for this chapter I am going to do a mix of steamy kisses and 'ohmygod-you-know-they're-so-totally-doing-it-even-though-it's-not-being-said-that-they-are.' Maybe some future chapter will include actual full-on smut, but I make no promises.**_

_**I haven't quite decided how long I'm going to stick with Draco's POV, but the beginning of this chapter at least will be.**_

_**If you happen to see any spelling/grammar errors, just let me know.**_

_**Anyway, on with the chapter! :D**_

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><p>My eyes slowly slid open and I found myself wondering when I had fallen asleep. I looked around blearily, taking in my surroundings as well as the warmth pressed up against my side. I was obviously in my own room, if the green and silver hangings were anything to go by. As I shifted soft, silky hair tickled my forearm and in that moment I remembered who was lying beside me: Hermione.<p>

I looked down to see a content smile gracing her features. Her eyes were closed, so I assumed she had fallen asleep as well although I didn't remember either of us doing so. Her pink lips were parted slightly, allowing tiny breaths to emit from her mouth in languid intervals. She was beautiful, even asleep. She still wore the dress she had donned for the ball, which had to be at least somewhat uncomfortable, and her smooth legs were tangled with mine beneath the duvet.

I had no recollection of us becoming so… intimately entangled, but I wasn't about to complain. Instead I watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath, watched as the gorgeous witch beside me slumbered on peacefully. I could have simply laid there with her for ages, but all too soon her eyes were fluttering open.

Her chocolate brown eyes were glazed with sleep as she blinked. She looked utterly adorable in that moment. _Adorable? Who are you and what have you done with the true Draco Malfoy?_

"Draco, is that you?" she yawned, her voice still tinged with sleep. She rubbed her eyes and looked up at me, recognition glinting in them immediately.

"Yes, it's me. It seems we fell asleep earlier."

Hermione nodded. "Mm. What time is it?"

I turned and picked up my silver watch off of the bedside drawers. "Just past four in the morning."

Her eyes widened. "Did we really talk for that long?"

"Well, you returned around midnight, and we couldn't have been asleep too long."

"Wow."

"Indeed."

There was a bit of an awkward silence after that. I didn't really know what to say. What am I supposed to say? "Oh, Hermione, I know I tormented you and your friends for years but I only did it because I loved you subconsciously and now I want us to be together forever." Well, as nice as that sounded in my head, I doubted it would work that well at breaking the ice between us. Thankfully, the witch beside me took that task upon herself.

"Draco, I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you. All of it."

How she could ever find it in herself to forgive me, I didn't know. It must have been all those years gallivanting around with Potter. Or maybe she had taught him the tricks of the trade. I wouldn't be surprised either way really. She was intelligent, breathtaking, and apparently very forgiving. I wouldn't let her go, that I knew for sure.

I tried to resist, but I couldn't help being enraptured by her eyes. The chocolate brown irises resembled pools of the smoothest Hondeydukes chocolate, sprinkled with specks of a darker brown. They were doe eyes, wide and inviting. Innocent even, for someone who had seen as much as she. And before I really knew what was happening, I was leaning forward. Millimeter by millimeter.

I heard a gasp, from which of us I'm still a bit unsure. And then her eyes were fluttering closed and the distance between us couldn't have been more than a centimeter.

What was I doing? Well, of course I knew what I was doing. This is me we're talking about after all. But what would this mean?

_Why are you getting all sappy now? You've already kissed the girl twice today. Once more won't hurt anything._

My thoughts were clouded. A part of me was saying not to do this without understanding the meanings behind it. The other part, the admittedly larger part, wanted to take her then and there. She looked so beautiful in that moment. Eyes closed, lips parted in a most sensuous way. My blood pumped erratically through my veins and I knew I was already past the point of no return. So I took the chance, threw all my nagging doubts away. I finally closed the gap between us and kissed her.

The moment our lips connected a jolt shot through me. I vaguely remembered learning about Muggles and electricity and thought this must be what they were talking about. This raw energy that surged through my blood and lit up my insides like they were on fire. I had never felt anything like this before. The feeling took me aback at first, but soon I wanted more.

Hermione seemed to be enjoying herself as well. There were no hesitations, no rejections. Just pure passion that I could feel radiating off of the both of us. Soon her hands were fisted in the fabric of my shirt and she pushed forward, instinctually looking for more physical contact. Who was I to deny her?

My hands snaked around her waist of their own accord and pulled her closer to my chest. The feel of her soft body pressed against mine was almost my undoing, but I kept myself together. I wanted more, _needed more_, so I tentatively swiped my tongue against her bottom lip. Another new thing for me. Usually I took whatever I wanted, but Hermione meant more to me than any girl I had ever been with before.

Her mouth opened eagerly to allow me the access I so desperately desired. Our tongues battled for dominance and I couldn't help but smile a bit. Of course she'd be one of those women who liked to be in control, and honestly it was something that I found to be quite the turn on. Usually the girl would submit to me, giving me the control. Being challenged like this, well nothing could have been hotter in my eyes.

While my mind was distracted Hermione had somehow pushed me down into the bed and lay on top of me, paying special attention to my collarbone with that talented mouth of hers. So did that mean she wanted the same things I did? _This taking other people's feelings into account thing is weird._

As much as I didn't want her to stop, I knew she'd kill me if I allowed her to do something she would regret later. So I placed a hand on either cheek and lifted her face to mine. Looking into her darkened eyes almost made me change my mind. But I owed her this much.

"Are you sure you want this?"

She seemed in a daze. She blinked a few times and her eyes cleared. "What are we doing, Draco?"

"I was pretty sure you had an idea, but if you need a lesson on the mechanics…"

"I'm being serious right now!"

"Well, if I had it my way, we'd be enjoying each other with less clothing."

Hermione pulled away and pulled the duvet up to cover herself. I figured it was more a comfort thing since she wasn't indecent or anything. I was torn between trying to comfort her and just leaving her be to sit in her thoughts.

_See what you did? If you hadn't said anything we'd be getting her out of that dress right about now._

_You think I don't know that? Shut up._

"I… I've never done that before. I don't know…"

"How do you _feel_ right now? Not what you're thinking or what you think you should feel. How do you actually _feel_?"

"I… there's a burning in my heart, a desire that I've never felt before. And it… well, it scares me."

She felt something she had never felt before. That was a good sign. At least I wasn't the only one in way too deep. Now it was time to turn on the charm, convince her that everything would be alright if we went through with this. I'd take care of her.

"Live in the moment for once, Granger," I whispered huskily before leaning forward and capturing her lips with my own in a searing kiss.

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><p>My eyes fluttered closed as his lips gently caressed mine. Who knew the Prince of Slytherin would be such a tender lover?<p>

They were soft and warm, his lips, something I hadn't been expecting. After a few seconds I allowed myself to fall into the kiss headfirst. All my inhibitions disappeared. Soon his tongue swept across my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I easily granted it to him and reveled as our tongues battled for dominance. He was probably used to being in control, used to all those pathetic girls who would give him anything he wanted just to be able to say they had spent a night with _the _Draco Malfoy. If he expected the same from me, he was in for a surprise.

There was a moment where he seemingly receded into his thoughts and I took the opportunity to take full control of the situation. I'd never been this… involved with a boy before, but with Draco it felt easy, natural to be doing this. I attacked the pale skin on his neck and then moved down to nibble on his collarbone.

That seemed to grab his attention. Then he pulled my face up to his and gazed into my eyes. A whirlwind of doubt swirled instantly. Did I do something wrong? Was I moving too fast? Had he realized who I was and decided I wasn't good enough? Was this all just a trick, a joke, a bet?

"Are you sure you want this?"

What? My mind was still lost in its doubt-ridden haze. I blinked a few times to clear my mind and thought over what had just occurred. Did I want this? What was I thinking? How was it possible that Draco could get under my skin so easily?

"What are we doing, Draco?" I was so confused, scared even. We had just started getting along, for God's sake! And now we had not only kissed multiple times, but we were lying in his bed snogging, which would only lead to something more heated.

Draco's response was typical of him: a sarcastic retort of, "I was pretty sure you had an idea, but if you need a lesson on the mechanics…"

"I'm being serious right now!" Did everything have to be a joke to him?

Then he said the oddest thing for a Malfoy. He asked what I was truly feeling. If I had had any doubts of Draco's sincerity before, that simple question wiped them all away. The old Malfoy would have never given a care about my feelings, or anyone's feelings really.

"I've never done that before," I admitted before answering his question. "I… there's a burning in my heart, a desire I've never felt before. And it… well, it scares me."

In that moment I felt as if a large weight had been lifted off my chest. With Ron and Harry, I had to always been strong. I wasn't allowed to show fear or confusion because it would cause them to freak out more. But here, with Draco, I didn't have to worry about any of that.

While I was lost in my thoughts, Draco wrapped me up in his arms. "Live in the moment for once, Granger," he whispered huskily before leaning forward and capturing my lips with his own in a searing kiss.

I felt myself melting before I had even made a conscious decision. Everything around me was heat and _Draco._ The scent of his cologne, the feel of his body against mine, the way his lips tasted. Soon just kissing him wasn't enough.

In minutes his shirt was lying on the ground. I had never been so forward in my life, but something about Draco brought out the wild side in me.

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><p><em><strong>AN: Honestly, I feel sort of guilty for ending it there. But it felt right to me for whatever reason, so I hope it wasn't too horrible.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: I deserve any and all death threats. – Sorry, had to get that out of the way first.**_

_**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/read this story so far. I appreciate you all beyond words. It's been ages so I went back to re-read what I've already written and I will admit that the last chapter left me saying "How in the hell did I write that without laughing nervously as much as I am right now?"**_

_**This chapter is basically the morning after because… well, Hermione Granger had sex with Draco Malfoy. It's going to take a bit for Hermione to sort through her feelings and Draco will be soppy-ish. Oh, and Blaise somehow pushed his way into this chapter. So there's a lot of that.**_

_**Anyway, on with the story!**_

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><p>And that was what had led me here – looking around the room and seeing a king-sized canopy bed swathed in dark green linens and silver pillows, an adjoining door leading to a private bathroom. It was all a bit much for my mind to comprehend. I had slept with Draco last night. Draco Malfoy and I had participated in sexual intercourse. Multiple times. And each time was better than the last.<p>

And worst of all: I think I may have fallen in love with him.

If the sex part wasn't bad enough, I had actually fallen in love with the Slytherin Prince. The magnificent bouncing ferret, the loathsome evil cockroach who I'd disliked since the first time we spoke. _Fallen in love._ I didn't think I'd ever love anyone after Ron, but here it was looking me straight in the face. Literally.

"What's wrong?"

As much as I'd come to love Draco's compassion for me, in that moment I really wished he would have just kicked me out. Or yelled at me. Teased me. _Anything_ other than being concerned. It would have made everything so much easier. Maybe I could have convinced myself that last night was a mistake; that I didn't love him and it was just my leftover hormones talking. But the softness of his stormy grey eyes left no doubt in my mind that he was feeling everything I was. And that would not do.

When he realized I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to answer him, he stepped away from the bathroom doorway and sat beside me on the bed. He wrapped his arm around my waist and that prompted my thoughts to switch directions.

_Oh god I'm still in his bed. I'm still lying __**naked**__ in his bed._

Before Draco could repeat his question, I shifted from his grasp and jumped out of the bed, running straight to the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I turned the lock and slid down to the floor. I wanted to scream and cry and hex every single object in that bathroom because they all belonged to the boy – no, _man_ – that had just turned my life onto its head. I wanted to slap myself for allowing him to manipulate me the way he had, for allowing myself to fall for him despite knowing what the outcome of such a stupid decision would be.

A soft knock sounded on the door and I attempted to quiet my sobs.

"Hermione?"

I couldn't answer him. Not only was my voice hoarse after so much use (last night certainly wasn't any help), but I couldn't let myself speak because I knew I would only seek his comfort. And I couldn't allow myself any more contact with him. It was best to break my feelings for him cold turkey.

"Hermione, if I did something to upset you I'm sorry."

He just wouldn't give up, would he? Couldn't he tell that I didn't want to speak to him? And what was he apologizing for? Last night had been one of the best nights of my life, not that I could tell him so. Why did he have to be so sweet and confuse me even further?

"I'm going down to get some breakfast. I'll bring something back for you. We could both use some energy," he added jokingly.

Despite my best efforts, a smile graced my lips at his last comment. No matter how scared I was feeling at that moment, Draco still somehow knew exactly what to say. It was something I loved about him.

And there was that word again! _Love_. It seemed anything that had to do with Draco all stemmed down to that single word now. Before the word would have been something much simpler to accept – git, arrogant, prat. Those words I could handle. Those words were safe and normal and familiar. But _love_? How could I possibly love the person who had tormented me and my friends? The person who had been a large part of the plot to kill Dumbledore; the person who had looked down on me for so many years.

_But that's not true; he's told you as much, _my more emotional mind whispered. _Remember what he said? He was simply following orders to save himself and his family. Can you truly fault him for that? Wouldn't you have done the same in his position?_

_But he could have gone for help, _said my more rational mind. _He could have gone to the Order in the beginning._

_He was scared. He felt that no one would help him, that he had to do it on his own._

_Those are merely excuses._

_They may be, but they're the truth. And you know it._

"Shut up!" The voices were overwhelming and I had a bad feeling that I was going mad, but despite that I still found myself agreeing with them. I had the tendency to overanalyze every single aspect of my life since a very young age.

Yes, on one hand my attraction and affection for Draco was absolutely insane. But on the other hand, it made perfect sense. In the last few days I had seen a side of Draco I was sure no one else ever had. His demeanor had become kind, caring, compassionate, and every other positive word I could think of. He cared for me, that much was certain. And if I was reading the signs correctly, he might very well be in love with me the same way I was in love with him.

I almost wrote up a pros and cons list, but I was then reminded that I was sitting on the bathroom floor, still utterly bare of clothing. Since I was in the bathroom, I decided to take a shower. Draco was out getting breakfast and would be gone for a while anyway, so why not take the time to bathe? Bathing had always been a calming thing for me and right now some calming down would be welcome.

I started the bath, turning the faucets for hot water and lavender oil. That was one thing I would always miss when I was back home in the Muggle world: the tubs of Hogwarts. Once the tub was filled enough, I slowly lowered myself into the water, hissing slightly at the burn before sighing contentedly as the water engulfed my admittedly sore body.

In that moment I made a decision that would change my life. In that moment I decided I would not only accept the fact that I loved Draco Malfoy, but that I would make something of it.

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><p>It felt odd, walking through the corridors of Hogwarts with an authentic smile gracing my usually indifferent features. But apparently that was yet another of Hermione's gifts: making me genuinely happy. It was a good kind of odd though, like watching Potter and Weasley argue over mindless folly. I felt imbued with this warmth that I had only previously encountered on the rare occasions that one of my elders, mostly my mother, expressed a positive emotion toward me.<p>

Thankfully the halls were empty of any students, particularly ones who would gladly spread the word of a smiling Malfoy, so I didn't have to worry over putting the effort into my intimidating persona. To actually allow myself to feel was one of the most pleasant experiences I'd had in my entire life.

Soon the Great Hall was in sight and for a second I hesitated. Maybe I should just sneak down to the kitchens instead…

"Drake!"

That would be Blaise Zabini, the only friend I'd ever allow to call me such an insufferable nickname. Why I put up with him, I still didn't truly know.

I turned to face him as he quickened his stride to approach me. Despite popular belief, Blaise was a laidback guy. He didn't put effort into his appearance as much as just looking that way when he woke up in the morning. So his attire of a dark green sweater and dark washed Muggle jeans didn't surprise me as it most likely would have countless others.

"What do you want, Blaise?"

He had the nerve to chuckle at my agitated tone (yet another thing only he seemed to get away with) and threw one of his arms over my shoulders before saying, "Someone's in a mood. I can't tell whether it's a good or bad one though, oddly enough."

And it _was_ odd, considering how close the two of us had become over the years of knowing each other. We'd been put together since we could talk and had eventually formed the sort of alliance expected of us, all just another part of being purebloods in the same social circle. That alliance later expanded into the friendship that the two of us shared now. When I came to the conclusion that Voldemort's ideals were complete rubbish, Blaise was the one I had talked it over with. No one else could be trusted. In turn, he trusted me with his, admittedly, less stressful problems: which girl should he shag next, how should he get rid of the one still clinging to his arm, the best way to deal with his mother. So the fact that Blaise, the one who normally knew what I was thinking just by glancing at me, didn't know what kind of mood I was in signified a great deal.

"That doesn't answer my question," I reminded.

"Do I really need to have a reason to chat with an old friend?"

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes as the trite comment. He'd used that line way too many times over the years. His techniques to deflect were merely passable at best. He correctly took my silence as irritation and decided to "grace me with an explanation."

"You've been missing since the dance. Where have you been?"

Of course. Damn him and his observant nature. It didn't help that he also had the tendency to successfully pull information out of me when no one else could.

"I've been occupied," I answered with the coolest manner I could muster. Hopefully he would leave the topic to rest at that…

"Occupied with whom?"

Drat. I really should have gone to the kitchens after all.

"Who said there was any 'whom' involved?"

"Drake," Blaise replied in that chiding tone he used when he knew something was going on. The tone that said 'I know you did something and you can't hide it from me.' I loathed that tone.

"It's none of your business. Now, if you would kindly leave me be so that I can get some food, I'd appreciate it."

"Was that a _request_?" Blaise inquired in an unnecessarily dramatic fashion.

Shit. It _had_ been a request. Malfoys don't _request_ things of people! They _order_ things of people. Had my night with Granger truly softened me that much?

"Move, Blaise." There, much better.

"I don't think I will," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. I loathed that glint. It foreshadowed terrible things; namely that Blaise would soon say something I didn't want to hear.

"Suit yourself." With that I pushed my way past him and strode toward the kitchens with my standard arrogance and poise. Maybe if I walked quickly enough he would take a hint and leave me alone.

He didn't.

"Who was it? That one blond Hufflepuff with the decent rack? A pretty Ravenclaw perhaps?"

"It's not of any concern to you who I chose to spend my time with, Zabini."

"Ooh, resorting to last names, huh? She must be pretty special to you. A Slytherin then?"

"I'm using your surname to try to convey that your incessant nosing your way into my business is neither welcome nor tolerated."

The prat chuckled in reply. "Sure, Drake. That's just your nice way of saying that you don't want to talk about it. But I'll get it out of you eventually. I always do," he retorted smugly.

Sometime during our conversation, we reached the portrait that posed as the entrance to the kitchens. The walk seemed shorter in retrospect, but I suppose that's what happens when you have someone annoying the hell out of you.

I reached up and tickled the correct piece of fruit. The pear jiggled and transformed into a doorknob as it had for as long as I could remember. I grabbed the knob and turned, opening the door to reveal the bustling house elves of Hogwarts. I stepped inside and Blaise followed me in. we were immediately approached by a small house elf.

"Hello sirs. My name is Tinky. How may Tinky help sirs?"

"I need some food to take back to my room." I considered what Hermione would like and realized that I had no idea. Thinking back to the past few years at school I vaguely remembered her entire being lighting up whenever pumpkin pasties were served. That would be simple enough, but something of substance would be preferred. _Think Draco. What does she eat?_

"Any foods in particular, Mister Malfoy sir?"

I ignored the bouncing elf as I searched through my mind to try to remember anything she might have an affinity to. Then the memory hit me. Potter had once shouted about roast beef sandwiches being something that Hermione was fond of.

"A plate of roast beef sandwiches. And a few bottles of pumpkin juice." I paused, hesitant, but I knew if Hermione were there she'd expect me to say the dreaded word, so I tersely added, "Please."

Blaise gasped comically from his spot beside me. "Did you just say _please_? To a _house elf_, of all things?"

The house elf, Tinky, grinned at me. "Of course, Master. Yes, of course. Anything, sir. Tinky will be right back with your foods, sir." I nodded my acknowledgement and the creature rushed away toward the stoves, evidently to retrieve what I asked for.

"Drake? Are you okay? Are you sick? Did someone Imperio you?" Blaise grabbed me roughly by the shoulder, shaking me and staring worriedly into my eyes. "What house did you tell me that I actually deserved to be sorted into the day of the feast in first year?"

I pushed him away, straightening my rumpled clothes. "You're obviously not a Slytherin," I sneered, "if you jump to such unreasonable conclusions so easily."

He sighed in relief and stepped back. "Thank Salazar, it's really you."

"Of course it's me, you fool. Who else would it be?"

That nauseating glint was back in his eyes and I silently wished for the house elf to hurry up already.

"You don't seem yourself, Drake. First smiling in the halls, followed my politely requesting me to leave you alone, and now you've said please to a _house elf_! You can't really blame me for wondering."

Thankfully, the moment was interrupted by the same house elf from earlier rushing towards us and stopping just short of crashing into me. In one small, wrinkled hand laid a tray covered in what I assumed were roast beef sandwiches dressed with yellow mustard. In her other hand resided a brown bag which had to contain the bottles of pumpkin juice I'd asked for. "Here's your food, Master. Tinky hopes it is to your liking, Mister Malfoy sir."

"This is fine." I took the bag from her with one hand and used my other hand to pull my wand from my robes and levitate the tray of sandwiches in front of me as I walked toward the door. Blaise followed behind like the annoying animal he was. As soon as were back out into the corridor, the questions began again.

"Dinner for two, eh? The girl must be _really_ special then, if you're making the effort to bring her the food yourself rather than simply calling for an elf from your room. Who is it? Do I know her? What year is she in? Which house?"

I kept my pace brisk as I walked back to my dorm. Somehow Blaise matched my stride easily, as if we had been walking alongside each other for the whole time. His unrelenting presence was pushing on my nerves. "Will you shut up already?"

"So it's someone I wouldn't expect. Hmm," he paused to think it over and seemed to have an epiphany as his features lit up and he smirked. "I know who it is! It's a Gryffindor!"

I retained an impassive expression, but inside my thoughts were a whirlwind. What if he figured it out?

"But which Gryffindor could it be?" he mused, unaware of the inner turmoil I was facing with every word he said. "It has to be someone in our year, seeing as you never really like younger girls and we're the oldest students here. And she'd have to be a prominent figure, seeing as you loathe tramps who only want you as a claim to fame."

With every sentence we were approaching closer and closer to the room where, hopefully, the girl of my dreams was still waiting. Every correct observation of Blaise's brought him closer to the realization I had been hoping to prevent. But once Blaise had his mind set on something, nearly nothing could send his thoughts elsewhere. The only thing that could work in a situation like this was a pretty face, but the halls were still empty seeing as the majority of the school was still eating breakfast in the Great Hall.

"She'd needs brains, and looks. Which leaves only two people in my mind: Weaselette and Granger. Seeing as the girl Weasley has her life occupied by being with The-Boy-Who-Never-Dies, that leaves Granger." I winced subconsciously and waited for what was likely to be the biggest and most dramatic realization I had been in the presence of since Pansy realized I didn't care the slightest bit for her. _That_ had not gone well at all, but that's another story for another day. I nonverbally put up a Muffliato charm in preparation for the onslaught that was to come.

As expected, Blaise suddenly stopped walking and his eyes grew wide as Fanged Frisbees. His jaw dropped in what would have otherwise been a hilarious manner and he stood stock-still as if one single movement would cause the world to explode. I debated on whether or not to keep walking, but as his friend I found myself stopping as well and meeting his gaze head-on.

"You… and… _Granger_?" he spluttered unattractively. "But – but that's not _possible_! The two of you _hate_ each other!"

Did I mention that Blaise had no idea how long I've been harboring feelings for Hermione? I may trust him with my life in most situations, but my arising feelings for a noted muggle-born was something I didn't share with _anyone_.

"You're kidding, right? This is all just a joke to get back at me. Right? Right? Drake, tell me that you're just pulling my wand right now!"

I simply stood there and said nothing because honestly, what could I say? I wasn't about to tell him anything here where we could be interrupted or seen at any time. Luckily I had the common sense to place a Muffliato charm to prevent any eavesdroppers or wandering student from hearing us. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to tell him anything at all on the subject.

Blaise was pacing back and forth now, wringing his hands and shaking his head. "No, it's just not _possible_," I could hear him mumbling to himself. "I would have noticed. I would have seen some kind of sign."

I considered interrupting his mad ramblings, but they were too entertaining, so instead I leaned against a nearby wall with a notorious smirk on my face.

"I mean, this is _mad_. It simply can't be true," he argued with himself. "But Drake has denied anything, which means it _is_ true. Oh Merlin. How did this even happen?"

I decided to cut the guy a break and take my leave. "Well Blaise, as interesting as all this ranting of yours has been, I have places I need to be." Before he could say another word, I turned the nearest corner and made my way to my dorm.

Fortunately, Blaise didn't follow me this time.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Hola wonderful readers. :D Thank you for putting up with my horrible inconsistency. On a positive note, the next chapter is here! This chapter is actually all Hermione's POV.**_

_**Thank you for any and all responses to this story: alerts/reviews/etc.**_

_**If you wouldn't mind reviewing (good, bad or indifferent), I would really appreciate hearing anything you may have to say.**_

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><p>I had just finished getting dressed for the day and currently working on taming the mass of curls that was my hair after a nice long soak. I could have used a beauty charm considering Ginny had taught me an arsenal of them before the school year began, but there would always be some things I preferred to do "the Muggle way." Once the first handful of tangles had been pulled through, the smooth brush strokes through my hair became soothing, calming, in that the motion was something I had done for as long as I could remember. It was a familiar feeling amidst all the chaos and change that had become my life lately, especially since last night and this morning.<p>

I had feelings for Draco Malfoy. _Romantic _feelings, feelings that I had decided to act upon. That alone was enough to send my head spinning, but add to it the fact that he returned those feelings and… Merlin, how would I possibly explain this to Ginny, Harry, and Ron? Because as much as I wished it wasn't true, I knew they'd be questioning me at the first opportunity.

I looked at my reflection in the ornate mirror (apparently even Draco's bathroom was stylish and impeccable) and sighed. I decided to put my hair in a braid and let it be. I wasn't in the mood for anything more extravagant. As I wrapped the strands of hair into their rightful places I wondered where Draco was. He should have been back by now, if my calculations were correct. Maybe he ran into someone…

"Granger, I've brought breakfast." Well, that answered my question. At the same time, other questions arose in my mind to take the previous' place. Since he brought me breakfast did he expect something of me in return? What was I going to say once I walked out there? Would he approve of my appearance? Wait… why was I suddenly worrying about how Malfoy appraised me? Since when had I turned into one of those girls?

With once last glance in the mirror, I smoothed my hands over my outfit and patted my hair one last time. I set my features in a nonchalant expression, reached out to the doorknob and slowly opened the door, hoping with all my being that none of my emotions showed. It wouldn't do for Malfoy to see me nervous.

The sight that met my eyes was one Draco Malfoy, already dressed in his trademark black (I don't think I've ever seen him in anything other than black and green, now that I think about it…) jumper and dress pants. In his hands laid an ornate silver tray covered with sandwiches. How did he even know what those were? Didn't purebloods despise such "low brow" foods? On the table sat a few bottles of pumpkin juice which I was thankful for.

He turned to look at me in that moment, a smirk gracing his lips. "Like what you see then?"

His stupid comment broke me from my thoughts and I laughed. "In your dreams, Malfoy."

"Who needs to dream when I have such vivid memories?"

Damn. Somehow the events of last night evaded me for those few minutes and now they all came rushing back, the mixture of embarrassment and pleasure from the night showing itself as a blush on my cheeks.

"I thought as much," he said. "Now, stop staring and come eat something."

I stood immobile for a moment, weighing out my options in my head. I didn't have to stay; I could leave and return to my dorm to stew in my thoughts in peace, maybe write a letter to my muggle friend Cindy (the only one I had remained in contact with over the years) and get her advice before I rushed into anything with Malfoy. Or I could stay and appease my empty stomach…

"I went through a lot of harassment to get this meal, so I'd appreciate it if you actually sat down and ate rather than standing over there like an idiot."

I looked over at the table to see Malfoy sitting down now, facing me with an annoyed expression. During my reverie he had apparently set the table and plated the food. Noticing that I was out of my thoughts again, he returned his gaze to the sandwiches. He looked at them curiously, something I found rather endearing. Who was I kidding? I was staying.

I walked over to the table and took my seat across from Draco (_it's okay to say his first name, you know_, my mind insisted) and determined the type of sandwich that lay before me: roast beef with yellow mustard. My eyes widened before shrinking to their normal size.

"How did you know roast beef sandwiches are my favorite?" I inquired suspiciously. Had he been spying on me?

"I heard Potter mention once at lunch with his loud, obnoxious voice," he drawled. "Apparently the words stuck in my mind."

I smiled at him because… well did I really need a reason anymore? "Thank you."

Draco looked surprised but muttered, "You're welcome."

I picked up my sandwich and took a decent sized bite, humming in appreciation as the different tastes rolled over my tongue. The house elves always made the best food. And now that I knew McGonagall was paying them for their services, I could relish it without feeling guilty.

"Is it that good?" Draco asked, amused. He hadn't touched his food yet and I wondered if he was afraid of being poisoned or some other ridiculous thing his prejudiced father might have told him.

"Yes," I replied once I had swallowed. "You should try it."

He looked down at his plate in distaste and shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

I shrugged. "Your loss." I took a sip of pumpkin juice and returned to diligently attacking my delicious sandwich.

We were silent for a few minutes before Draco spoke again. Hesitantly he asked, "What does it taste like?" As to distract himself from the awkwardness he was feeling, he popped open his drink and took a sip while he waited for my answer. Seeing him so nervous and awkward reminded me of how normal he was, despite how unreal he seemed.

"Like roast beef," I replied teasingly, "with yellow mustard. Oh, and bread. You can also taste the bread."

"Ha ha," he retorted sardonically. "I was being sincere."

"You've never had a roast beef sandwich? Ever?"

"No. Mother was always fond of more complex cuisine. Risotto from Italy, escargot from France, Greek salad, couscous, and those sorts of things. Sandwiches were considered food only fit for a buffet table at a small party, but I wasn't allowed to eat any. It was below me, or so my father said."

I shook my head. Poor Draco. He must have missed out on so much in his childhood, growing up as he had in a sheltered, narrow-minded existence. Rather than giving my condolences, I merely satisfied his curiosity to the best of my ability.

"Well, the meat tastes like the type of roast that you carve and eat. I'm sure you've had that before?" he nodded and I continued. "The mustard has just a hint of spice and it complements the meat rather well. And I hope you've had bread before?" He laughed which I took as a yes. "Put it all together and you have this sandwich."

He nodded thoughtfully and reached out a hand to probe the object on his plate. After a few times, he picked it up in his hands and looked at me questioningly. I nodded in encouragement, effectively telling him to give it a try. He slowly brought the item to his parted lips and for a split second I found myself remembering just how soft those lips were pressed against mine. Then he bit into it, chewing slowly, and finally swallowed. I waited quietly for his verdict.

"It's… not bad."

I fought back a laugh and smiled instead. "Glad you like it."

Afterward, we ate while talking amiably. Apparently Draco was as nearly well-read as myself and it was such a good experience discussing books with someone who actually knew what you were talking about and had their own opinion on the matter. We then talked politics, music, and a bit about Hogwarts and the war. Soon it was high time for me to return to my dorm and get out of the dress I still wore from the ball. Draco asked me to meet him in the library later so we could continue our talk, and I agreed. After sharing longing glances and a quick kiss on the cheek, I left his room feeling like I was walking on air.

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><p>The walk to my common room went by rather quickly. Before I knew it I was stood before the Fat Lady and giving her the password.<p>

Once I entered, I looked around the common room to see if either Harry or Ginny were anywhere nearby. I spotted neither of them and sighed in relief. I wasn't ready to have them confront me about yesterday, especially when they were unaware of the events that occurred after the dance and earlier this morning. Just as I was about to ascend the stairs to the girls' dormitories, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Ron, smiling nervously.

"Hello, Ron," I greeted kindly, smiling in hopes to relieve his nerves.

"Can we talk, Mione?"

"Of course."

He led me to a couch situated in a quiet corner and sat down on one end, gesturing for me to do the same. Once we were both situated, his first question shocked me,

"You were with Malfoy all this time, weren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I spluttered as soon as I regained the ability to speak.

"I'm not mad," Ron assured. "I kind of saw it coming after what happened at the dance and what we talked about."

It was then that I remembered Ron's kind words and actions on that occasion. He had defended me and accepted my thoughts and feelings all in one go, something that I really appreciated. Who would have ever thought that Ron would grow up to be the mature one rather than Harry?

"I was with him," I said quietly. "And Ron… Promise you won't hate me?"

"Of course. Hermione, we've known each other for years. There's nothing you can say that would make me hate you."

I sighed because while I knew he was sincere, there was nothing that could prepare him for what I was about to say next. "I slept with Malfoy."

Ron choked on his sudden intake of breath and I waited quietly while he rode out the coughing fit. His mouth gaped and he finally said, "What?"

I knew he had heard me the first time and was just in shock, bout nevertheless I repeated myself. "I slept with Draco Malfoy last night."

"I heard you. I just… why?"

What was safe to tell him? Should I tell him everything? Nothing? Only part of the truth? "I don't know, Ron. He was there and he was just so attractive… and then he said something and everything went from there."

"He said something?" Ron coughed uncomfortably. "Uh, what exactly did he say to convince you to sleep with him?"

"That's just the thing, he didn't manipulate me into doing it. He didn't trick me. It was consensual."

"You're avoiding my question."

"He told me to live in the moment."

"Really?" Ron shook his head incredulously. "That doesn't sound very… provocative."

"It wasn't, not really. But at the time it was exactly what I needed to hear to just let go…" I noticed Ron's ears begin to flush and quickly changed the subject. "You're not mad?"

He sighed. "No, I'm not mad. Surprised, maybe. Intrigued, a little. But more than anything, I'm just glad you're alright. We're all grown now, Mione. I trust your judgment."

Wow. "Intrigued?"

"Just to how this all came about. No, I don't want details!" he interjected when I opened my mouth to speak. "Save that for one of your girl friends."

I smiled at the childish display, something that Ron would always be capable of despite our age. I leaned over and hugged him, saying "Thank you."

Ron returned the hug and said, "Anything for my best friend." After a second Ron, once again, coughed uncomfortably. "Are you still wearing your dress from the ball?"

I nodded. How did he only just notice this now?

"Maybe you should go up and change then," he suggested.

I nodded again and finally released my grip on him. "That's why I had come here originally."

"Good plan, that." Ron remained sitting as I approached the staircase. Once my foot landed on the second to last step, he called up to me. "Mione?" Once I turned to face him he said, "Just let me know if he hurts you, yeah?"

I smiled and mouthed, "I will." I then turned around and headed towards my dorm, hoping to find something comfortable to change into after nearly a day in this (now wrinkled and uncomfortable) dress.

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><p>Five hours later and it was the time Draco had appointed for me to meet him in the library. I was giddy with excitement at seeing and speaking to him again. I had spent nearly an hour working on my hair and deciding what to wear (I guess I really had turned into one of those girls, at least where Draco was concerned) and I was now sneaking out of the common room, hoping to go unnoticed by any nosy Gryffindors (and Harry or Ginny, if they happened to return). I made it out of the room unscathed, and hopefully unseen. I walked through corridor after corridor, running what I wanted to say to Draco through my mind. I had decided to tell him about the feelings I'd developed for him.<p>

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't hear the footsteps in front of me, didn't hear the person calling my name; not until I walked straight into a warm body did I stop walking.

"Hermione? What are you doing out here?"

That voice sounded familiar… very familiar… oh no. _Harry._

"Going to the library," I replied truthfully.

"What for? We don't have any assignments due."

"To read, Harry. What else?"

"You usually read in the common room."

"Well, tonight I wanted somewhere more quiet," I huffed impatiently. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

He didn't budge. "We still haven't talked about you and Malfoy."

"Harry, can we please save this for another day?"

"I'd like to get it out of the way now, actually."

I sighed irritably. "Fine. What did you want to ask?"

"Are you and Malfoy together?" He gazed intently at my face, watching for any tell of a lie.

"Why would you even think something like that?"

"Ginny has her suspicions, and I find her reasoning to be quite logical."

I nearly snorted. "Really, Harry? You plan to use _logic_ against _me_?"

Harry sighed. "Just be honest with me, please."

"We're not together," I replied honestly. "But I have been spending time with him recently outside of our duties, if that's what you're referring to."

"Why?"

"You have no right to question my actions, especially those that are none of your business in the first place," I retorted, feeling my temper rise. "Whatever goes on between Draco and I, is the business of only Draco and I."

"Hermione, please don't be so stubborn. I'm only looking out for you," Harry pleaded. I found only sincerity in his eyes, which increased the worry I had for if and when Draco and I ever did get together.  
>"Malfoy doesn't really have the best record where the three of us are concerned."<p>

"And I understand that, and I appreciate you caring for me," I said sincerely. "But this is something I need to do on my own. When the time is right, I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Harry stared unblinkingly, a stare I returned easily. After a few minutes, he gave in. "Promise?"

"I promise. Now, may I go?"

Harry shook his head fondly. "You sure do love those books," he teased. "But yes, I suppose I'll drop this for now."

"Thank you." We shared a quick hug and then went our separate ways. I was so glad that Harry had seemed to calm down and had behaved more rationally compared to his actions at the ball. Maybe things would be okay after all, when I finally decide to tell him and Ginny about my feelings for Draco.

With a small smile on my face and a skip in my step, I walked to the library with a new outlook on life.

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><p><em><strong>AN: I honestly have no idea where this came from. I hope it satisfied your thirst for this story somewhat until I get the next chapter out. Ideas/suggestions are always encouraged. Reviews are always read and appreciated.**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: You all have every right to kill me. I am a horrible person.**_

_**Thank you for sticking with me. Both POVs here. I apologize for the lack of length ahead of time.**_

_**Without further ado, here's chapter ten.**_

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><p><em>Quick recap: DracoHermione bonded, Hermione had a reassuring and slightly awkward conversation with Ron, she then had a quick confrontation with Harry, and now our favorite bookworm is meeting our favorite Slytherin in the library for some (hopefully) alone time._

Finding Draco in the library wasn't a difficult task. Not including that his hair was a dead giveaway even from a distance, there were only a few places amongst the tomes that provided a decent amount of privacy. Add that to the fact that I knew the library's layout like the back of my hand and it became a no-brainer where he'd be.

I walked quickly toward the small alcove where he sat, keeping my already muffled footsteps exact while skillfully avoiding every creaky floorboard. No need to bring unwanted attention to myself, after all.

As I approached the table, he looked up as if he could feel my presence. Everyone's apparent vigilance learned from the days of the war was still intact for the most part and Draco was no exception. I sat down in the empty seat across from him and smiled, my own smile widening when I received a smile in return.

"Took you long enough," he commented offhandedly before turning his attention back to his Charms book.

I placed my bag down on the floor beside my chair and rifled around until I found the book I had been looking for, my Ancient Runes text. I set it carefully onto the table and opened it to the previously marked page. "I got held up," I replied, "by both Ron and Harry."

Draco's head snapped up the second Harry's name left my lips. "What did Sca – I mean _Potter_ – say to you?" His eyes roved my face and I could see the concern etched in his brow. "He didn't upset you, did he? I swear on Slytherin's rod that I will murder him if he did."

My first instinct was to defend myself and inform him that I could handle myself just fine, the way I felt obligated to do with Harry or Ron, but the fact that he was so worked up over such a small thing made me realize how deep these feelings we had between each other were becoming. Less than a year ago, anyone who had even remotely told me that Draco would be so apt to defend my honor would have gotten sent straight to St. Mungo's for a psychiatric exam.

Instead I giggled and smiled disarmingly at him. "I appreciate that, but I'm fine. The confrontation dissolved way before things became heated."

Draco nodded his head and responded with a succinct, "Good."

We remained quiet for a few minutes, ostensibly working on our respective homework assignments. Seeing as the two of us were the highest in our class, and therefore the ones who finished our work the quickest, it wasn't long before the both of us were sitting there simply gazing at each other.

"You wanted to continue our talk?" I prompted.

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><p>Granger's voice pulled me back to reality. How is it that I end up staring at her face and get caught up in it so easily every opportunity?<p>

I cleared my throat, and my mind of any particularly embarrassing thoughts, and attempted to remember what I had earlier thought up as the first topic of conversation I had planned on using. Something simple, not too personal as of yet. Oh, right.

"What are your plans for after graduation?" Right before she began to speak, I couldn't help but add, "You're not going to attend some Muggle university are you? I thought seven years of schooling would be more than enough, even for a sponge like you."

She glared at me but seeing that I had no intention of taking back what I said, she simply sighed and answered my original question. "I might work at the Ministry actually. I had originally wanted to be a Healer, but I think I've seen enough death and severe injury for one lifetime."

We both winced at the comment, both at the truth of it and the horridness of the thoughts that usually accompanied mention of the Second Wizarding War we had played a part in. we had both seen our fair share of death and torture, although I suppose one could argue she won in the "most emotionally scarred" department.

"Good point."

"And what about you?" she asked in return. I suppose I should have seen that coming, but I had no answer planned out. _I _didn't even know what I would be doing as of yet.

"Well, when I was younger I wanted to be an Auror," I admitted, "but Father always reminded me that I had a company I would inherit and a family name to retain," I added bitterly. That evil bastard always put himself first, himself and his damn money.

"An Auror is a very prestigious career choice," Granger remarked diplomatically. "Although I feel inclined to tell you if you do join the Auror forces, you'll be working with Ron and Harry. Kingsley already offered the three of us positions, but I made it a requirement that the boys take their NEWTS first."

"Of course you did," I interjected genially. I'm sure if it had been said in another tone I would have been hexed out of my seat. As always, she simply ignored my comment and continued on as if she hadn't been interrupted in the first place.

"Are you still expected to take over Malfoy Industries then?"

"Technically, yes." Which was the truth, mostly.

"What do you mean technically?" she asked, her voice edged with just a hint of suspicion.

"There are a few… conditions… that my father had written into his living will. One of them happened to pertain to his being sent to Azkaban and my subsequently taking over the company."

"And this condition is?"

This would be uncomfortable soon. "I need to be married to someone of whom my mother and father approve before I turn twenty-one."

Hermione's eyes widened, probably because she still wasn't used to the scheming of Purebloods, and particularly of a father against his only son. Despite all she had done in her short life, I was quickly learning that my (hopefully soon-to-be ex) society was something she didn't have never-ending knowledge of.

"But they can't force you to marry if you aren't ready! And at such a young age!" she protested.

"In the Wizarding world, twenty-one isn't all that young," I reminded.

She shook her head in disappointment but left it at that. Silence loomed and so I changed the subject to something much more lighthearted.

"Read any good books lately?"

She immediately perked up and went off rambling about some Muggle historical fiction novel and I listened, for the most part. Something about the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about grabbed my attention and didn't let it go. She could have been going on and on for hours for all I knew. But I wasn't complaining, oddly enough.

Suddenly a _thump_ sounded from about a meter away and she jumped, her eyes quickly searching for what could have made the sound. I followed suit and sighed in exasperation when I caught sight of a familiar polished dress shoe. I know, odd thing to recognize, but I knew it well all the same.

"Blaise, what in Merlin's name are you doing here?" I growled, hoping not to draw any more attention in our direction. This, whatever it was between Hermione and I, _was_ supposed to remain a secret from the Hogwarts population, at least for a while longer. "Have you demoted yourself to stalking me?"

As per usual, my words had no effect on him. I felt more irritation at the fact that he had invaded my and Hermione's "alone time," but it didn't hurt that I wanted to knock that knowing smirk off his face.

He slid into the remaining empty seat at the table and grinned at me before reaching out a hand toward Hermione and saying (in his most _charming_ tone), "It's good to see you, Granger."

She looked between the two of us and eventually settled on shaking the twat's hand. I resisted the stirring of jealousy in my gut (Honestly, I'm jealous of _Blaise shaking her hand? _What is wrong with me?) and instead pinned my supposed best friend with a baleful glare.

"I see I'm not welcome," he remarked after a few seconds of silence. "I'll catch you later, Drake." And with that he was gone.

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><p>"Well," I said lightly as I watched Blaise Zabini walk out the library doors as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. "That was interesting."<p>

Draco grunted in reply. Whenever Harry or Ron would do such a thing it grated on my nerves, but with Draco it didn't bother me at all. _Perhaps it's because I know he actually has a wide vocabulary when he chooses to utilize it…_

"Since the mood is now ruined," Draco declared, pulling me from my thoughts and refocusing my attention onto him, "I'll be going. Will I see you again soon?"

I swore I heard a tinge of hope in the question, but I was probably just projecting my own thoughts and feelings onto his actions. "Sure, just let me know," I replied.

We packed up our things, walked out into the corridor, and went our separate ways. I sent Draco a small wave before I turned the corner out of his sight, and he returned it, which caused me to smile.

Once I was certain I was alone in the corridor, I sighed. Draco and I had been near a breakthrough, almost talking about his family in depth (which was something he _never_ did), but then Blaise had to come and ruin everything. It felt odd to me, being so petty about something so small, considering I'm usually not that way. But here I was, sort of fantasizing about the best way to torture Blaise so he would get the message that he should never interrupt the two of us ever again.

Although I had to admit… it was sort of amusing seeing Draco all riled up.

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><p><em><strong>AN: So I know this wasn't necessarily my best work (ever), but I felt horrible about not updating and I felt the urge to write and this is what came out. I swear I will make it up to you with the next chapter. Maybe at some point in the future this chapter will be completely rewritten, for the better. But until then, I hope this is enough to make due.**_


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: So this chapter's up pretty quickly, for me at least. I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you enjoy it. Apparently I'm a sucker for dialogue._**

**_This chapter works better in 3_****_rd_****_ person, considering there are a few different scenes, but the next chapter should be back to 1_****_st_****_ person. Hopefully it's not too much of a bother for anyone. I apologize for any spelling/grammar related errors ahead of time._**

**_Another shorter chapter, this time as a lead-in to some action._**

_Quick recap: Hermione met up with Draco in the library, where they attempted to have a profound discussion. Unfortunately, Blaise interrupted and ruined the moment._

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><p>Harry flew skillfully across the sky, throwing in a few loops here and there. His eyes were focused on the air before him, but his mind was elsewhere. He still worried about Hermione. He had come out the Quidditch Pitch under the pretense of practicing his seeking skills but had asked Ron to come along so they could talk.<p>

"I don't know," Harry mused to Ron as the duo flew around the Quidditch Pitch, "I just have a bad feeling about whatever it is that Hermione's hiding from us." He paused to search the sky for the Golden Snitch, but still caught no sight of it. He looked back at Ron and asked curiously, "Aren't you worried?"

Ron sighed and shook his head. "Mate, Hermione's smarter than the both of us combined. She knows what she's doing."

"I know that," Harry replied, "but sometimes she lets things overwhelm her and then where would she be?"

"She'd be up to her nose in shit," Ron answered frankly. "_But_ she would find a way out of it. And if that required our help, then she'd come to us and talk about it. Until then, all we can do is trust that she knows what she's doing."

Harry sighed but realized he couldn't come up with a good argument against the point. "When did you get so mature?" he joked.

Ron shrugged. "After the war I guess."

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><p>Hermione was sitting on her bed in her Head dorm, really wishing she had somehow thought up a way to politely decline Ginny's request for a sleepover. But she hadn't, so here she was being questioned by her closest female friend.<p>

"You _slept together?!_" she screeched one she had gotten the entire story. "Oh my wizard god!" The shock melted from her features and Hermione knew the redhead was about to ask something very naughty, if her mischievous grin was anything to go by. "Was he good?"

"Ginny!" Hermione buried her face in her hands, hoping her blush would quickly fade. She wasn't a virgin anymore, but such blunt mentions of sex still embarrassed her, especially when said words were directed towards her.

"It's a reasonable question," Ginny retorted.

Hermione shook her head emphatically. "No, I am not discussing this with you."

"You will tell me every single dirty detail, Hermione Jean Granger, or else."

Hermione, a bit anxious as it was, snapped her head in Ginny's direction at the girl's words. "Or else what?" she asked cautiously, already dreading the answer.

"Or else," Ginny said with an impish grin, "I'll ask Malfoy myself."

Hermione burst into laughter, causing Ginny to frown. Wasn't that a good threat?

"What's so funny?"

Hermione, looking sufficiently guilty, calmed her breathing. "Sorry, Gin. That idea is just so ridiculous! Think about it, _you _asking _Draco_ how good our sex was?" Hermione couldn't help but release a giggle at the image. "Besides, I doubt he'd want to talk to you. No offense."

Ginny shook her head fondly. "_That _is what caused your little laugh attack?" Ginny scoffed. "Hermione, this is _me _we're talking about. If I wanted to get something out of Malfoy, I could easily find a way to do so."

Hermione remained quiet. She knew that Ginny spoke only the truth and it worried her. What if Ginny did ever decide to speak with Draco? She shuddered at the thought.

"So, how good was he?" Ginny inquired again, knowing she had Hermione right where she wanted her.

"Utterly fantastic," Hermione sighed dreamily. "Honestly, I think it was better each time, although I have no idea how that's physically possible."

Ginny giggled. Rarely did one ever see Hermione Granger in such a state. She decided to take full advantage of the situation before the bookworm came back to her senses. "What was your favorite part?"

"His tongue. Ugh the things he does with that tongue."

"And what did he do with his tongue?"

"It was everywhere. God, it was amazing. It was as if –" Hermione stopped abruptly. "Why am I telling you this?"

_Damn, _Ginny thought. _Oh well. It was fun while it lasted._ "I suppose I can wait for the other details."

"Gin, aren't you freaked out in the slightest?" Ginny had been nothing but calm since her short outburst when she first learned everything and Hermione wondered why her friend wasn't having a more explosive reaction.

"About you and Malfoy?" At Hermione's confirming nod, the redhead replied, "Not really. Not anymore, at least."

"Not anymore?"

"In the beginning, I thought he was using you. Or maybe he was your rebound after you broke things off with my brother." Hermione went to object, but Ginny motioned for her to be quiet. "I took time to accept it because I knew you wouldn't back down on your decision. But then I realized something. You're in love with the git."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "But – but how – how did you?" she stuttered.

"Your eyes light up when you see him in the corridors or at meals. You jumped straight to his defense around the boys. You sigh dreamily when you speak of him with me. Plus, you look like I did when I realized I loved Harry."

Hermione nodded. That made sense. Did her eyes really light up at the sight of Draco? She'd never noticed, but if Ginny said it then it must be true. "I never really noticed I was that obvious."

"Lovesick fools rarely see what's right under their noses," Ginny teased. Her tone turned serious quickly thereafter however and she asked, "What are you going to do? Have you told him?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well why not?"

"Draco's not one to share his feelings and it's so soon in our 'relationship' and I don't want to ruin things already!" the brunette rambled.

"Hermione, calm down." Ginny waited until her friend's hyperventilating subsided. "Now, you don't choose when you fall in love with someone. Besides, you've known one another for seven years!" Hermione made to protest but Ginny stopped her in her tracks. "Plus, I can tell he feels the same."

"Thanks Gin, for being so supportive and talking me through all this." Hermione was extremely grateful that Ginny had come around. It would have been horrid not having a girl friend to discuss all this with. Her friendships with Ron, Ginny, and Harry meant so much to her.

"No problem," Ginny replied with a smile. "So, what color do you want your nails painted this time?"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the Head Boy dorm, Draco endured a similar inquisition.<p>

He had just walked inside and settled in for the night when a incessant tapping came on his bedroom window. Draco, knowing exactly who it would be, refrained from admitting entrance to the intruder and instead focused on trying to fall asleep. His efforts were for naught, however, when the tapping ceased and he heard soft footsteps approaching where he lay.

"It's amazing what a simple Alohomora can achieve," Blaise commented as he recklessly threw himself onto Draco's bed.

Draco groaned in annoyance. "Damn it Zabini. You almost smashed into me!" The blonde ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and scooted even further away from the dark-skinned lad.

Blaise rolled onto his side and grinned. "That was my original intention. Too bad I failed."

Draco scoffed. "And you think you're the mature one."

"No, I _know _I'm the mature one," Blaise countered, a self-satisfied grin stretching across his face.

"Whatever," Draco grumbled. He lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes, hoping that Blaise would get the message and just leave.

He didn't.

Blaise let out a yawn and stretched his arms above his head before burrowing down comfortably into the pillow beneath him. He snatched the blanket from around Draco and sighed contently. "This is nice," he stated. "I never knew your bed was this comfy."

Draco sighed irritably. "What is it that you want?"

Blaise peeked open on eye and retorted, "Who said I wanted anything?"

"Don't play stupid. We both know why you're here."

"I want the story behind you and Granger."

"You can't have it."

"Aw, come on Drake," Blaise whined. For someone who most girls believed to be nothing but suave charm, Blaise was such a child in private. "I thought I was your best friend? Best friends tell each other everything!" he protested.

"Why do you even care?"

"Because you're in love with Granger and I want to know how it happened."

Draco spluttered, nearly choking on his saliva. Blaise immediately sat him up and began patting him on the back while saying things like "You're okay," "Just breathe," and "I got you." Eventually Draco regained his bearings. The first thing he did was pull away from Blaise and glare daggers at the other boy. Oh, if only looks could kill.

"Don't look at me like that. You know I didn't mean for you to almost die."

"What did you mean, saying I'm in love with Granger?"

"Drake, it's pretty obvious."

Draco began to panic. If dolts like Blaise could figure it out, how soon would it be before all of Hogwarts knew?

"I'm going for a snack," Draco declared, quickly rising from his spot on the bed and throwing his school robes over his sleeping clothes. He needed to get away from Blaise before he had Draco spilling his deepest thoughts.

"This late at night?" Blaise inquired. When Draco didn't respond and walked quickly over to the portrait that led into his dorm, Blaise rushed after him. "Sounds good to me, mate."

Draco scowled over his shoulder at the persistent little bugger. "You weren't invited. Go back to your bed or something."

"Nah," Blaise grinned as he keeps pace with Draco's long strides down the corridor. "I prefer hanging out with you. Beats the damp of the Slytherin rooms, at least."

Draco released a long breath, but resigned himself to being stuck with Blaise for the night. "Whatever."

They roamed the darkened halls of Hogwarts toward the kitchen in silence; Draco seething, and Blaise knowing better than to push the blonde any further for the moment. No one crossed their path other than Nearly Headless Nick, who simply walked around them without a word.

Soon the portrait hole that designated the kitchens came into view. Draco reached up and tickled the piece of fruit impatiently, quickly twisting the doorknob that soon appeared afterward. As a younger student, he had come to see the elves when he couldn't sleep. Dobby would make him a glass of warm milk and he would always be internally grateful to the elf for still associating with him after how he had been treated at the Manor and (never to be said aloud) to Potter for freeing the elf when he did.

The sight that met Draco's eyes was not a welcome one.

Sitting at one of the center tables, conversing over a snack of Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties, were two-thirds of the infamous Golden Trio. The Weasel was stuffing his face, as per usual, while Potter looked more reflective as he picked at his food. Neither boy had heard Draco enter the room. But he had a feeling his luck wouldn't last long.

"What's the hold up, Drake?"

At the sound of Blaise's voice, the idiot and his sidekick turned toward the door. Potter's eyes immediately narrowed as they zoned in on Draco's form. Weasley's eyes widened and he dropped the cake he had been holding right onto the floor, making an odd squishing noise as it hit.

Draco stood his ground, his molten silver orbs burning into Potter's emerald green. There was no way he was going to let Potter chase him out of the kitchens without a fight. No damn way.

The hero of the Wizarding world slowly stood, his back ramrod straight and his shoulders firmly tense. "Malfoy."

Draco stared him down determinedly. "Potter."

In true poetic irony, two others voiced simultaneously, "Shit."

The kitchen was about to heat up.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: So the question is: what will go down in the kitchens of Hogwarts? Will there be a duel of epic proportions? A civil discussion? One side backing down and leaving the room peacefully? Will the house elves get involved? That is for us to find out together, so if you have any ideas let me know!_**

**_On a side note, I feel as if I'm better with summaries than actual stories… weird._**


	12. Not a chapter, but still important

I'll be adding this to each of my published fics, so I apologize if you have to see this more than once.

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><p>Greetings to the fine folk that moderate our site.<p>

Myself, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.

For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. There are those out there that are never able to recover a story in its original form, this is something I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable. Some have even lost stories because the SUMMARIES (not the actual stories) were not rated G… I wasn't even aware summaries could be rated, nor need to be G if the story itself was rated M.

It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added. On that note, readers, please consider signing this petition: petition/lemons-for-fanfiction/

If you're worried about falsification of a registration then have an appropriate disclaimer and then there can be no dispute, you took your steps and the PARENTS didn't monitor their children, if that is even your concern. If it is more of a personal view or desire then please at least let people know and give them a chance to remove a story that you and yours find offensive, most people on the site are actually rather cordial when it comes to such requests.

While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be losing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.

For those that may agree with this, please feel free to sign on and send this to the support server, maybe we can get some movement on this.

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	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Hello everyone! My brother is too lazy to reinstall Microsoft Word atm so I'm actually writing this up on WordPad. The new Copy&Paste feature really does come in handy.**_ _**I apologize now if the font and/or organization is horrible**_.

_**I've gotten a few anonymous reviews, which will be answered in my ending AN so as to not distract from the chapter too much.**_

_**Did I mention this chapter is basically more pure dialogue? Oops...**_

_**Without further ado.**_

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><p><em>Quick recap: Ron and Harry discussed the 'situation' over at the Quidditch Pitch where Ron suggests to trust Hermione's judgement concerning the Malfoy issue. Ginny is with Hermione, garnering any and all information during a sleepover. Meanwhile Blaise interrupted Draco's (supposed to be) peaceful sleep. When the Italian refuses to leave, Draco attempts to find solace in the Kitchens. Instead, he runs into Harry and Ron.<em>

The room remained in a tense silence; the only noise being the few house elves who returned to their work after the sudden commotion. The remaining elves stood, trembling, as they looked on at the scene before them. The rivalry of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter was no secret, not even to the staff of Hogwarts. If anything went wrong, there could be damage of epic proportions. After about a full minute of a silently intense staring match, Potter broke the silence.

"What are you doing here?"

I scoffed. "It's a free country, Potter. You're not the only one who knows the entrance to the infamous kitchens."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I intended to ingest some sort of nutrient to steel myself for dealing with that one," at which point I gestured to Blaise, "but unfortunately ran into you idiots instead."

"I'm almost offended, Drake," Blaise commented.

Potter looked between the two of us, probably unused to joking Slytherins, his glare softening but his gaze still filled with suspicion. "What have you done to Hermione?"

"Are we really going to have this talk now, and here of all places?" I sighed.

"Why don't you have a seat and make yourself more comfortable?" he suggested with a sweep of his arm.

"I suppose we are then." I looked to Blaise who merely shrugged. Always the unhelpful one. "Whatever." I took a seat across the table from where Potter had been as Blaise took the seat beside me across from Weasley. "Let's just get this over with," I sighed dramatically as The-Boy-Who-Refused-To-Just-Die returned to the table. I may not be able to curse him out of this century seeing as it would upset Hermione, but no one ever said I had to be polite.

"Ever since the last ball the two of you have been up to something, that I'm sure of," the bespectacled wizard stated certainly. "What I'm curious about is how you managed to brainwash her into liking you in the slightest. Hermione is a brilliant witch so your choice of sabotage was either very subtle or extremely overpowering."

"Hate to break it to you, Potter, but no form of sabotage was required. I simply told her the truth."

"The truth about what?"

I groaned internally. I really did not want to talk of my feelings about Hermione with _Potter_ of all people. They were _my_ feelings so they should be no one else's business, right? Well other than Hermione's, I supposed. Now I needed to find a way to placate Potter without revealing anything mushy or mortifying. "The truth about how she changed me." There, still vague but not too inaccurate.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the Chosen One pried.

"Exactly what it says."

"She changed you? Changed you how? I don't understand what you're trying to get at."

Scarhead's prying was beginning to get under my skin. What was it with Gryffindors and their damned curiosity? Did they not know their social cues? "I'm about to say some things I've never told anyone, so you better listen closely. I'll only be saying this once." I can't believe I actually have to go through with this! But it would be said on my terms, not a word more than I chose to speak.

"I'm listening," he said as he leaned over the table. Apparently he could hear better in that position.

"My father is an utter prick and I hate him. I always have, since I was old enough to understand the hypocrisy he preached. He forced me to serve Voldemort when he rose again and later to take the Dark Mark; I had no other choice. I had nowhere to run to, no one who would protect me. So I pretended to agree with his principles. I obeyed because I knew if I didn't I would die. Or worse, they would torture my mother." I exhaled deeply and decided to skip ahead in time a bit. "Granger had been the only one to question me, to stand against me, and I hated her for having the gusto to do so. I hated that although she was a mudb- muggleborn she always scored higher than me. I hated that she obtained your friendship when I had failed to do so. I hated how the three of you were worshiped. I hated all of it."

As I took another breath Potter gasped, a light of recognition coming over his features. "Your father beat you because of that, all of it," he breathed.

I nodded, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing my voice break. A part of me wondered how he could tell, but I pushed that wandering thought aside. After steeling myself further, I continued. "The day Granger hit me became the day of my epiphany. I began standing up for myself at home, especially when my mother was mistreated. That all stopped the day Voldemort took residence in the manor." I shuddered involuntarily, the images of beady eyes and the telltale hissing voice filling my mind. "He gave me my orders and I followed them."

"But I still don't understand," Potter interrupted. "What does any of this have to do with Hermione?"

This would be the hardest part, but the faster I got it over with, the faster this conversation would be finished. "She was the light at the end of my tunnel of darkness."

The Weasel snorted. "How poetic."

Even Blaise let out a muffled laugh and I resisted the urge to slap him upside the back of his head. Instead I settled for a gruff, "Yeah, well."

"So I'm assuming you eventually built up the balls to tell her all of this recently?" Potter inquired, a hint of amusement discernible in his tone.

"Pretty much."

"If you hurt her, I'll have to kill you," he said as if it were the most well-known fact in the entire wizarding world.

"I'm aware of Gryffindors and their sense of pride," I replied. "And as much as I hate to admit it, I'd gladly let you do so if the time ever came."

He leaned back in his seat and sighed, releasing a large breath he seemed to have been holding since the moment we locked eyes. "She really has changed you, hasn't she?"

"I'd get a piece of you too, don't forget," Weasel interjected once he had greedily swallowed the last gulp of his pumpkin juice.

"I'm not afraid of you, Weasley," I chuckled. "At least Potter has some of Snape's old hexes in his repertoire to threaten me with. I'd be amazed if you could actually hit me with a spell." Yes, I probably shouldn't have egged the hothead on, but it was too much fun not to say at least one thing. Now that I thought about it, he'd been quiet during the conversation between Potter and I. I had expected at least some sort of explosion from the duo, but perhaps they'd matured even more than I had thought possible.

Weasley's face predictably turned a bright red and a sure-to-be witty remark was on the tip of his tongue. Instead of the barrage of yelling I had prepared for, he merely exhaled and shook his head. "I'm not taking your bait, Malfoy. Not anymore."

"I'm impressed. It seems you've gained more maturity than Potter since the last time we had the pleasure of conversing."

The wizard in question made a sound of protest, but even he seemed surprised by his sidekick's lack of response.

The four of us sat in silence. Everything that needed to be said had been said and no one was keen on saying anything more. I may have just told my arch rival some of my innermost tales, but I refused to degrade myself to friendly conversation, especially if Hermione wasn't around to witness it. Apparently the almighty Potter felt the same.

"Well, see you around, I suppose." And with those six awkward words, he stood and strode out of the room.

Blaise and I turned our attention to Weasley, who still sat motionlessly in his seat. I assumed he would follow Potter's lead, but instead he said something I hadn't been expecting. He seemed to be full of surprises tonight. "I will never approve of you, but Hermione does and I guess I'll just have to accept that in the long run." He sighed and passed his hand through his ginger mop. "Just don't expect things between us to get friendly. Probably ever."

I nodded. I had no intention of becoming lovey-dovey with the two of them either. I would tolerate them for Hermione's sake but anything more would take time, if things were to change at all.

"Right then." He stood, thanked the house elves for their assistance, and left without another word to either Blaise or me.

Once we were alone, Blaise slouched back into his chair. "Well, that went differently than expected." Unsurprisingly, he called a house elf over and asked for two glasses of Butterbeer as well as some scones. In response to my amused stare he said, "What? Dealing with Gryffindors has only increased my appetite."

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><p><em><strong>AN: Review replies: Jen - The "steamy parts" as you so awesomely put it are still up in the air. If I do write anything of the sort, it will probably be posted under a different story (aka a one-shot or something) because some of my readers are uncomfortable with such scenes.**_  
><em><strong>Guest - I plan on finishing the story, although I still have no idea how long it's actually going to be. But thank you for taking time to review!<strong>_

_**I'm officially making 'whatever' Draco's go-to phrase when he's annoyed. They seemed to prefer the civil route, but I can assure you that their tendency to hate each other isn't over in the slightest.  
><strong>_

_**If you have anything to say, I'd love to hear it!  
><strong>_


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